not an ash was at large on the hearth, for she still cooked in the open chimney over a bed of wood embers by the aid of pot hook, crane, and trammel, Satira joined 'Lisha at the table and poured herself a cup of coffee. She had barely raised it to her lips when she set it down so suddenly that the coffee splashed upon her cherry-colored bonnet strings.

"'Lisha Potts," she adjured solemnly, "I know what it is! Oliver is going to take a second and he wants me to put things in shape! And why shouldn't he if he wishes? He's got a tidy sum laid by and a trade and a position under government. Of course I'll go and help him, not but what a widow must feel, losing her only brother twice, so to speak, but if I suspicioned who she is, I could ride down easier, and resign my spirits better if I knew it wasn't widow Baker."

"It isn't marrying anybody, so you're way off the track. It's just unexpected company that Oliver ain't got time to entertain suitable, and the quicker we get down there, the sooner you'll know all about it," said 'Lisha, indulging in what for him was a wild flight of fancy.

After the Sellecks had received instructions as to her live stock, Satira Pegrim relapsed into a silence that lasted for almost a mile.

"How much company is there?" asked Satira, launching the question suddenly in the hope of taking 'Lisha unawares.

"Two!" he replied, a gleam of amusement flitting across his grim visage.

"Males or females?"

"One of each."

"Married couple?"

"Nope."

"Brother and sister?"

"I reckon not."

"Just friends, then?"

"I guess you've hit it now, pretty near, though I should call them two down to Gilbert's more sort of travelling companions that was on the way to growin' real friendly." More than this, Satira Pegrim could not extract, and she contented herself by weaving romance about the unknown couple, paying no attention to the beauty of the morning, wherein every ice-covered twig glistened in the sun.

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