“Mrs. Tarbox will do it.”
“The whole of it?”
“Yes; my first wife used to do it.”
“And died of broken health at forty.”
Seth Tarbox did not relish the plain speaking of Miss Stokes, and turning on his heel, walked away.
Nancy made it a point to call at the farm during the day.
“I hear, Mrs. Tarbox,” she said, “that you are going to do all the washing hereafter.”
“Who told you?” asked Mrs. Tarbox quickly.
“Mr. Tarbox.”
“He is mistaken,” said Mrs. Tarbox calmly. “I shall do nothing of the kind.”