"Exactly," he responded hastily. "If a watch doesn't run, what's the use of its being pretty? And if churches develop a gift of tongue instead of character, what's the value of their prayers and songs? And I've concluded that if schools don't teach us how to live, they have the wrong kind of springs and wheels. Where is Fran, Mrs. Jefferson?"
"Still," she temporized, "we can't get along without watches, Abbott."
"No, nor schools, nor churches. But they must have good works. Is Fran down at the fair, do you think?"
The other bent toward him stealthily. "Ask where Mrs. Gregory is," she said, wonderfully significant.
"Well?"
"Abbott, listen: she's gone a-visiting!"
"Visiting!" Abbott was surprised.
"Yes, visiting, she that hasn't been off this place to visit a soul for ages. I tell you, boy, times have changed, here. Maybe you think nobody'd be left at home to visit; but Fran has found that there is a woman in town that she used to know, and the woman has a mighty sick child, and Lucy has gone to sit by it, so the mother can rest. Think of that, Abbott, think of Lucy going anywhere. My! Have you heard that we've lost a secretary at this place? I mean the future Mrs. Bob. Yes, she's gone. I'd as soon have thought of the court-house being picked up and set in the parlor."
Mrs. Jefferson drew back and said succinctly, "Fran did it!"
Her cap quivered as she leaned forward again. "Get her to tell you all about it. We darsen't speak about it much because of the neighbors. We conspired, Fran and I. Yes, she's down at the carnival, you boy!"