But when Ben was gone,—and the sight of Alethea, silent, absorbed, pallid, broken-hearted, gave him little wish to prolong his stay,—the scene at the fireside was less amicable and cheerful. The elder women, bereft of gossip, bickered over the trifling mishaps of the day. The old man sorted his “lumber.” Jessup slouched and lazed and smoked. Only the weather varied the aspect of the world. The snow slipped away in the thaw, leaving mud and ooze and intervals of blackened ice. Then the rains descended, and the scene without was dimly visible through the long, slanting, dun-colored fringes of the cloud. The roof clamored with the resonant fall of the drops, the clapboards leaked, and puddles formed even in the ashes of the chimney corner. The sun might shine vaguely for a day. The chill splendors of the wintry constellations scintillated icily in the dark spaces of the night. But the clouds, rallying from every repulse, closed once more about the Great Smoky, and ravine and peak and cove were again deeply covered with snow. Mrs. Jessup bewailed the change. “I war a-hopin’,” she remarked, “ez we would hev no mo’ fallin’ weather, so Lethe could go ter the meetin’ at the church-house in Eskaqua Cove, an’ fetch up some word o’ what’s a-goin’ on down thar ter this benighted roost. _I_ war raised in the _cove_! I ain’t used ter sech a dwindlin’ sort o’ life ez this hyar.” “What ailed ye, then, ter marry a mounting boy?” Mrs. Sayles would demand in resentment. “’Kase I war the mos’ outdacious an’ astonishin’ fool in Cherokee County.” Mrs. Jessup was not a woman of great abilities, but she had an uncommon gift of conclusiveness in retort. Mrs. Sayles could only knit off her needle with a sort of whisking scornfulness of gesture. And presently, not to be silenced, she demanded when the meetin’ was to be held. “To-morrer’s the day; this be Sat’dy. Ter-morrer’s Sunday.” “The snow’s a dry snow,” remarked Mrs. Sayles. “I dunno what’s ter hender Lethe, ef she feels minded ter go ter meetin’.” It never occurred to either of them to undertake themselves the hardships and dangers of the excursion. Even Mrs. Jessup, pining for the fuller development and richer social opportunities of life in the cove, did not covet them to the extent of exertion.