"I got right up from the supper table an' took 'Leven over to Crapwell's without waitin' for the dishes. But early as I was, the rest was there before me. I guess they was full ten to Crapwell's when we got there, an' 'Leven an' I, we walked into the sittin'-room right in the midst of 'em--that is, of what wasn't clearin' table or doin' dishes or sweepin' upstairs. Mis' Timothy Toplady an' Mis' Holcomb-that-was-Mame-Bliss was the group nearest the door--an' the both of 'em reco'nized that shroud the minute they clamped their eyes on it. But me, bein' back o' 'Leven, I laid my front finger on to my shut lips with a motion that must 'a' been armies with banners. An' they see me an' kep' still, sudden an' all pent up. "'This,' s'I, 'is a friend o' mine. She's goin' to do up Jennie's hair from her City photograph.' "Then I hustled 'Leven into the parlour where Jennie was layin' under the soft lavender cloth. Nobody was in there but a few flowers, sent early. An' it was a west window an' open, an' the sky all sunset--like the End. 'Leven hung back, but I took her by the hand an' we went an' looked down at Jennie in that nice, gentlin', after-supper light--'Leven in Jennie's shroud an' neither of 'em knew it. "An' all out o' the air somethin' says to me, Now--_now_--like it will when you get so's you listen. I always think it's like the Lord had pressed His bell somewheres for help in His housekeepin'--oh, because _how_ He needs it! "So I says, ''Leven, you never see anybody dead before. What's the differ'nce between her an' you?' "'She can't move,' 'Leven says, starin' down. "'Yes, sir,' s'I, 'that's it. She's through doin' the things she was born to do, an' you ain't.' "With that 'Leven looks at me. "'I _can't_ do nothin',' she says again. "'Why, then,' says I, brisk, 'you're as good as dead, an' we'd best bury you, too. What do you think the Lord wants you 'round for?' "An' she didn't say nothin', only stood fingerin' the shroud she wore. "'Here,' s'I, then, 'is the comb. Here is Jennie's picture. The pins is in her hair. Take it down an' do it over. _There's_ somethin' to do an' ease her mother about Jennie not lookin' natural.' "An' with that I marched myself out an' shut the door. "Mis' Toplady an' Mis' Holcomb was high-eyebrows on the other side of it, an' they come at me like _tick_ lookin' for _tock_. "'Well,' s'I, 'it _is_ Jennie's shroud she's wearin'. But I guess we'll hev to bury 'Leven in it to get it underground. _I_ won't tell her.' "I give 'em to understand as much as I wanted they should know,--not includin' exactly how I met 'Leven. An' we consulted, vague an' emphatic, like women will. There wasn't time to make another one an' do it up an' all. An' anyway, I was bound not to let the poor thing know what she'd done. The others hated to, too--I donno if you'll know how we felt? I donno but mebbe you sense things like that better when you live in a little town.