"Hit is," he agreed, solemnly.
She ran to Virginia and Amy, in her excitement throwing an arm about each.
"Do you see that sight—Fulty and Darcy a-playing together in the same game, as peaceable as lambs?"
"Yes," they said.
"I wouldn't believe if I didn't see," she declared. "Women, if I was sot down in Heaven, I couldn't be more happier than I am this day; and two angels with wings couldn't look half as good to me as you two gals. And I love you for allus-to-come, and I want you to take the night with me a-Monday, if you feel to."
"We shall love to come."
"And I'll live on the thoughts of seeing you once more. And, women,"—she drew them close and dropped her voice low,—"seems like hit purely breaks my heart to think of you two sweet creaturs a-living a lone-lie life like you do, without ary man to your name. And there hain't no earthly reason for hit to go on. I know a mighty working widow-man over on Powderhorn, with a good farm, and a tight house, and several head of property, and nine orphant young-uns. I'll get the word acrost to him right off; and if one of you don't please him, t'other will; and quick as I get one fixed in life I'll start on t'other. And you jest take heart—I'll gorrontee you won't live lone-lie much longer, neither one of you!"
II
TAKING THE NIGHT
When Aunt Ailsie returned from her visit to The Forks on Saturday, she gave Uncle Lot a full account of the strange women in the "cloth houses" on the hill—their names, ages, looks, and unmarried condition, and the activities they carried on.