Andrew looked up quickly. “You're sure you don't?” he said.
“No, sir.”
Ellen watched her mother sewing out in the snowy yard, then a dark shadow came between the reflection and the window, then another. Two men treading in the snow in even file, one in the other's foot-tracks, came into the yard.
“Somebody's comin',” said Ellen, as a knock, came on the side door.
“Did you see who 'twas?” Fanny asked, starting up.
“Two men.”
“It's somebody to see you, Andrew,” Fanny said, and Andrew tossed his paper on the table and went to the door.
When the door was opened Ellen heard a man cough.
“I should think anybody was crazy to come out such a night as this, coughin' that way,” murmured Fanny. “I do believe it's Joe Atkins; sounds like his cough.” Then Andrew entered with the two men stamping and shaking themselves.
“Here's Joseph Atkins and Nahum Beals,” Andrew said, in his melancholy voice, all unstirred by the usual warmth of greeting. The two men bowed stiffly.