Martha bowed profoundly. "’Thank you, thank you, sir,’ she sayed. ’Your kindness I never shall forget!’" "Me son Sammy was me youngest, an’ ’twas hard on me, part wit’ him, to be married. All the time he was courtin’ Martha, I was prayin’ she’d turn’m down, or somethin’d happen to come between’m, the way they’d never go to the altar when the time come. I wanted Martha for to be takin’ another fella was sparkin’ her along wit’ Sammy, but she didn’t. She tuk Sammy, like as if it was to spite me. It fairly broke me heart." "Oho! So you had your love-affairs, like the rest of us, Mrs. Slawson. Do tell! Is the heart-broken lover still hanging on, or——" "Heart-broken nothin’!" ejaculated Martha scornfully. "Gilroy’s as chipper as a squirrel, an’ don’t you forget it!" Ma wagged a sagacious head. "But he never married, Martha. You know that, as good as me. An’ it’s not for the lack of chances, itself. There’s many a girl would give her eye-teeth for’m, wit’ the riches he has, an’ dressin’ like a dood, the day." Mrs. Peckett sighed. "Well, well, and I thought you to be such a sober, steady-going woman, Mrs. Slawson! But it seems _you’ve_ had your romance, too! It’s a surprise, but—live and learn! Live and learn!" "That’s just it!" Martha returned. "We don’t. We live, but we don’t learn, more’s the pity. Have a cup o’ tea. Ma relishes it, along about this time in the afternoon, an’ it won’t be a mite o’ trouble. An’ you must sample some cookies I made this mornin’. I’m quite stuck on my own cookies, if I do say it, as shouldn’t." After her guest had eaten, drunk, and departed, Martha observed with more than usual gravity, "Say, Ma, you never want to mention anythin’ to Mrs. Peckett you wouldn’t just as lief was posted on a board-fence." "Why, what call have you to say that to me, I should like to know, Martha Carrol?" "Nothin’ much, only—I kind, o’ wish she hadn’t got wind o’ Gilroy." "I do declare!" whimpered Ma, "Did you ever hear the like? If I so much as open me lips, I’m rebuked for’t, the way I’d bring confusion on the fam’ly. Better for me, if I kep’ to me own room entirely, an’ never set foot here at all, to be accused o’ settin’ the neighbors gossipin’ when ’twas never me, in the first place, but yourself alone, mentioned Gilroy’s name." Martha shrugged. "Come on, now, Ma, cheer up! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelin’s. It’s just I nacherly distrust Mrs. Peckett. I used to think she was good, firstoff. But she’s as shifty as dust! I wouldn’t put it before her to take anything she got a-holt of—the innocentest thing, an’ twist it into what’d scandalize your name, so you’d never get rid of the smutch of it, however you’d try. The worst things ever I heard of the folks in this place, Mrs. Peckett told me. It’s took me over a year to find out most of’m’s just mischeevious tattle. You can lock up against a thief, but you can’t pertec’ yourself from a liar."