“Where’d you say you were goin’ this afternoon, Abby?”
“I said out in the country a piece, Lois; it’s such a nice afternoon.”
“Well, I should think Henry’d be needing the horse for his business. I know I’d never think of asking him for it—and me a blood relation, too, trying to earn my bread and butter tramping around the country with Famous People.”
Mrs. Daggett, thus convicted of heartless selfishness, sighed vaguely. Henry’s sister always made her feel vastly uncomfortable, even sinful.
“You know, Lois, we’d be real glad to have you come and live with us constant,” she said heroically.... “Git-ap, Dolly!”
Miss Daggett compressed her thin lips.
“No; I’m too independent for that, Abby, an’ you know it. If poor Henry was to be left a widower, I might consider living in his house and doing for him; but you know, Abby, there’s very few houses big enough for two women.... And that r’minds me; did you know Miss Orr has got a hired girl?”
“Has she?” inquired Mrs. Daggett, welcoming the change of subject with cordial interest. “A hired girl! ...Git-ap, Dolly!”
“Yes,” confirmed Miss Daggett. “Lute Parsons was telling me she came in on th’ noon train yesterday. She brought a trunk with her, and her check was from Boston.”
“Well, I want to know!” murmured Mrs. Daggett. “Boston’s where she came from, ain’t it? It’ll be real pleasant for her to have somebody from Boston right in the house.... G’long, Dolly!”