"Yes;" returned her hostess. "It's this way: there's four graves in the lot, and only one took up. I can't abear to think on it; to think whether I will or no that I have to lie wi' such a lot an' rise wi' 'em at the day."
"Well," said Mrs. Deans, in a meditative voice, "well"—a long pause, then she added: "Now, if 'twasn't for offending you, Mrs. Holder, I think I can see my way!"
"I'll be right glad if you do," said Mrs. Holder, eagerly; "it's vexing me sore."
"Well," began Mrs. Deans, "it's this way. I've done a lot of business, one way and another, and I'm used to seeing through things, and this is what I would suggest, Mrs. Holder—not that I want to make or meddle with other folks' business, but being always willing to do what I can to help along, and what I would suggest is this: Get Muir to call here and fix it with him, so as he'll do whatever's necessary when the time comes; and you give him half the lot for it, so, if anything happens, why everything'll be done up proper; and then he'll stake off half the lot and you needn't be scared; he'll not let it out of his hands. That's what I would suggest, Mrs. Holder, not that I pretend to be anything more than common—but I've done a heap of business in my time."
"It do seem fair wonderful, Mrs. Deans," said Mrs. Holder, her face lighting with an ugly expression of gratified malice; "it do be fair wonderful, the mind you have; but how'll I get word to Muir? I don't want Myron to know, of course, and I won't go down street with My flaunting the family shame—and there I be fair stuck."
"I'm passing Muir's as I go to the store," said Mrs. Deans, rising. "Oh, no thanks, please; don't thank me. We must all do what we can to help other folks along, you know, in this world, and I don't take it no trouble to do my share."
"Well, I take it rare kindly," returned the old woman.
"Oh," said her guest, pausing, "I meant specially to ask you about Myron; she was terrible late yesterday morning. I spoke to her about it, and she spunked up dreadful; got 's red 's fire and never said a word. I thought it my duty to tell you, Mrs. Holder, being anxious for her good and knowing you couldn't look after her, when she was out of jour sight."
"She was late yesterday morning in starting," said Mrs. Holder, "but I be fair ashamed she should show herself like that to you, after your goodness to her, and bearing with her, as you have done. Oh, Myron has her mother's ways—sulky she is, and close-mouthed." (Alas! was this all the memory left of Myron Kind's gentleness and sweet patience!) "You can see what I have to put up with day in and day out. Come here, My!" This to the child, as she saw him going along the path.
"Yes, you have your own times, I'll warrant," said Mrs. Deans. "What did you call the young one?"