Is the hay all in?
Amelia:
Yes. I put in the last load. All the big work on our place is done, and so—[Looks at her mother and hesitates. Her mother begins to chop the wood into kindling.] I'll do that, Mother.
Mother:
Let be, girl. It keeps me from worrying. Get a bite to eat. What were you doing with that bag? Who were you packing it for?
Amelia: [With downcast eyes.]
Myself.
Mother: [Anxious.]
What for?
Amelia: