Mother would go to Mrs. Ridlet's and say she'd like to borrow a pound or two of butter. Her cream didn't "come good" these cold days. Bub's mother would give her a big pat, with a bunch of grapes stamped on it. "Don't you fetch it back, Mrs. Pomfrey," she would say. "I've so much that I shall never miss it." Now, when they met, they would not look at each other. Six months passed, and we were lonesome as could be. But we would have bitten our tongues off rather than speak to the Ridlets. I didn't have a speck of fun. I'd go swimming, but what's swimming all to yourself? or tramping, but what's tramping alone? or setting snares, or anything? I knew father missed Mr. Ridlet on wet days, when they had used to sit in the barn talking over crops and stock, but he never let on. Mother would look out of the window as if expecting some one; then she'd turn away and sigh. But she never spoke Bub's mother's name--not once. I saw Bub running toward our house one day, and thought he was coming in. But no. He ran past without looking up. It didn't seem much use to do anything--that is, if you wanted to get any fun out of it. I never knew exactly what Mr. Ridlet accused father of stealing, and it seems mother didn't know, either, until one day, six months after the quarrel, when father said: "I'd like to know if Ridlet's found his wife's silver dollars." "Was it those he lost?" asked mother, speaking quickly. "Yes." "Mrs. Ridlet's been three years saving them. She said she meant to have a dozen as nice silver forks as could be made. She thought it would take about thirty-six dollars." "She had just thirty-six. She'd sent them to town by Ridlet, but the jeweler wouldn't agree to make the forks for less than forty dollars. Ridlet says he brought them back, but it seems they were gone when he got home." "And he accused you of taking Mrs. Ridlet's money," said mother. "Now, I'll _never_ speak to her." "It's odd where the money went," continued father. "You know I borrowed his wagon to go to town, a few minutes after he came home. He said he put the package on the wagon-seat, and got out to unharness the horse. Before he had done so, Elijah Bangs came in at the south door of the barn, all excitement about his sick cow. He wanted Ridlet to see the animal--he had been so unlucky about curing his own sick cattle. While they were talking, I came in to borrow the wagon. Ridlet, who was going off with Bangs, said 'Yes,' hurriedly, forgetting all about the silver dollars, so he says; and he says nobody came into the barn but me and Mr. Bangs, and, as Bangs came in at the south door, he wasn't near the wagon. Ridlet never thought of the silver till he was half-way to Mr. Bangs'; but he did not worry, knowing it was safe with me." "Did he say, out-and-out, you'd taken it?" asked mother.