Going to start that song? That'll come natural to
you. When I first married you I couldn't see how
you were old Pompey's daughter, but I might have
known it would come out. I might have known you
weren't the daughter of the meanest man in Greenstream
for nothing... I suppose I'll hear about
that money all the rest of my life."

"Perhaps I will die, and then you will have no
bother."

"That's a nice way to talk; that makes me out
a fine figure of a man... with Mrs. Caley in the
kitchen there, laying right over every word; the old
vinegar bottle."

"Don't you say another word about Mrs. Caley,"
Lettice declared passionately; "she nursed my
mother in her last sickness; and she took care of
me for years, when there wasn't anybody else hardly
knew if I was alive or not. If it wasn't for Mrs.
Caley right now I guess I'd be in an early grave."

Gordon Makimmon stood silenced by the last outburst.
The tall, meager figure of Mrs. Caley appeared
upon the porch. She was clad in black
calico, and wore grey felt slippers. Her head was
lowered, her closed lips quivered, her bony fingers
twitched. She never addressed a word to Gordon
directly; and, he decided, when she did, it would be
monumental, dumbfounding. The present moment
was more than usually unpropitious; and, discover-

[[173]]

p172 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p173w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p174

v?