Amanda spoke with stern warmth. She had known about this grievance of her neighbor's for a long time.
“I'm goin' down there,” repeated Mrs. Field.
“I would,” said Amanda.
“I hate to leave Lois,” said Mrs. Field; “but I don't see any other way.”
“I'll take her,” said Amanda, “if you're willin' to trust her with me.”
“I've got to,” replied Mrs. Field.
“Well, I'll do the best I can,” replied Amanda.
She was considerably shaken. She felt her knees tremble. It was as if she were working a new tidy or rug pattern. Any variation of her peaceful monotony of existence jarred her whole nature like heavy wheels, and this was a startling one.
She wondered how Mrs. Field could bring herself to leave Lois. It seemed to her that she must have hopes of all the old man's property.
After Mrs. Field had gone home, and she, primly comfortable in her starched and ruffled dimities, lay on her high feather-bed between her smooth sheets, she settled it in her own mind that her neighbor would certainly have the property. She wondered if she and Lois would go to Elliot to live, and who would live in her tenement. The change was hard for her to contemplate, and she wept a little. Many a happiness comes to its object with outriders of sorrows to others.