Emarine turned her head. Her eyelids quivered closer together in an effort to concentrate her vision on the approaching guest. “Well, I never!” exclaimed her mother, in a subdued but irascible tone. “There you go—a-lookin’ right square at her, when I didn’t want that she sh’u’d know we saw her! It does seem to me sometimes, Emarine, that you ain’t got good sense.” “I’d just as soon she knew we saw her,” said Emarine, unmoved. “It’s Miss Presly, maw.” “Oh, land o’ goodness! That old sticktight? She’ll stay all day if she stays a minute. Set an’ set! An’ there I’ve just got the washin’ all out on the line, an’ she’ll tell the whole town we wear underclo’s made out o’ unbleached muslin! Are you sure it’s her? It don’t look overly like her shawl.” “Yes, it’s her.” “Well, go on an’ stop an’ talk to her, so ’s to give me a chance to red up some. Don’t ferget the ball bluin’, Emarine.” Emarine went down the path and met the visitor just between the two tall lilac trees, whose buds were beginning to swell. “Good mornin’, Miss Presly.” “Why, good mornin’, Emarine. Z’ your maw to home?” “Yes ’m.” “I thought I’d run down an’ set a spell with her, an’ pass the news.” Emarine smiled faintly and was silent. “Ain’t you goin’ up town pretty early fer washday?” “Yes ’m.” “I see you hed a beau home from church las’ night.” Emarine’s face flushed; even her ears grew rosy. “Well, I guess he’s a reel nice young man, anyways, Emarine. You needn’t to blush so. Mis’ Grandy was a-sayin’ she thought you’d done offul well to git him. He owns the house an’ lot they live in, an’ he’s got five hunderd dollars in the bank. I reckon he’ll have to live with the ol’ lady, though, when he gits married. They do say she’s turrable hard to suit.” Emarine lifted her chin. The gold pendants glittered like diamonds. “It don’t make any difference to me whuther she’s hard to suit or easy,” she said. “I’ll have to be goin’ on now. Just knock at the front door, Miss Presly.” “Oh, I can go right around to the back, just as well, an’ save your maw the trouble o’ comin’ to the door. If she’s got her washin’ out, I can stoop right under the clo’s line.” “Well, we like to have our comp’ny come to the front door,” said Emarine, dryly.