"I said, he kin do what he likes. He don't like to do people's own work for 'em. He doos make 'em good, as soon as they're willin' and ask him. But the man sick with the palsy had to rise and take up his bed and walk; and what's more, he had to believe fust he could do it. I know the Lord gave the power, but the man had his part, you see."
"Mother Bartlett," said Diana, rousing herself, "you must not talk so much."
"Don't do me no harm, Diana."
"But you have talked enough. Now let me give you your broth."
"Then you must talk. I hain't so many opportunities o' social converse that I kin afford to let one of 'em slip. You must talk while I'm eatin'."
But Diana seemed to have nothing to say. She watched the spoonfuls of broth in attentive silence.
"What's new, Diana? there allays is sun'thin'."
"Nothing new. Only"—said Diana, correcting herself, "the Knowltons are coming back to Elmfield. Mrs. Reverdy is come."
"Be the hull o' them comin'?"
"I believe so."