“Well, well!” she exclaimed delightedly. “Then you ain't forgot me altogether. I'm awful glad to see you. You'll excuse me for not gettin' up; my back's got more pains in it than there is bones, a good sight. Dr. Parker says it's nothin' serious, and all I had to do was set still and take his medicine. I told him that either the aches or the medicine made settin' still serious enough, and when your only amusement is listenin' to Emeline Berry--she's the girl that's takin' care of me--when your only fun is listenin' to Emeline drop your best dishes in the kitchen sink, it's pretty nigh tragic. There! there! don't mind an old woman, Mr. Ellery. Set down and let's talk. It's a comfort to be able to say somethin' besides 'Don't, Emeline!' and 'Be sure you pick up all the pieces!'” Mrs. Prince's good spirits were of short duration. Her conversation soon shifted to the loss of her son and she wept, using the corner of the quilt to wipe away her tears. “Eddie” had been her idol and, as she said, it was hard to believe what folks kept tellin' her, that it was God's will, and therefore all for the best. “That's so easy to say,” she sobbed. “Maybe it is best for the Lord, but how about me? I needed him more than they did up there, or I think I did. O Mr. Ellery, I don't mean to be irreverent, but WHY was it all for the best?” Questions like this are hard to answer. The young minister tried, but the answers were unsatisfactory, even to him. “And there's Nat Hammond,” continued Mrs. Prince. “A fine man--no better anywhere, even though his father was a Come-Outer--just goin' to be married and all, now they say he's drowned--why? Why was that necessary?” Ellery could not reply. The old lady did not wait for him to do so. The mention of Captain Nat's name reminded her of other things. “Poor Gracie!” she said. “It's turrible hard on her. I went down to see her two or three times afore I was took with this backache. She's an awful nice girl. And pretty as a pink, too. Don't you think so? Hey? don't you?” “Yes.” “Yes. I've been kind of expectin' she might get up to see me. Hannah Poundberry told the Berrys that she said she was comin'. I don't care about her bein' a Come-Outer. I ain't proud, Mr. Ellery. And there's Come-Outers and COME-Outers. Proud! Lord 'a' mercy! what has an old woman, next door to the poorhouse, got to be proud over? Yes, she told Hannah she was comin', and the Berry folks thought it might be to-day. So I've been watchin' for her. What! you ain't agoin', Mr. Ellery?” “I think I must, Mrs. Prince.” “Oh, don't! Do stay a spell longer. Gracie might come and I'd like for you to meet her. She needs sympathy and comfort an awful lot, and there's no tellin', you might convert her to bein' a Reg'lar. Oh, yes, you might. You've got the most persuadin' way, everybody says so. And you don't know her very well, do you? Land sakes alive! talk about angels! I snum if she ain't comin' up the road this blessed minute.”