"She gave him a look, like he’d trod on her toes, and hurt her bad, besides taking the shine off her patent leather." Martha smiled. "Anybody’d know you’d been a strap-hanger, Sam Slawson. You give yourself dead away." "Well, she gave him the look, and said she: ’Thanks, but please don’t send. My grandmother is much improved. She may not require the services of _any_ doctor, very long.’" Mrs. Slawson nodded. "She’s sore on the subjec’ of her gran’ma. She knows her peculiar-rarities, an’ she knows she’s got to stand by the ol’ lady, but it kinda gives her a turn, every time she thinks anybody’s noticin’ her doin’ it. If Dr. Ballard wasn’t such a great innercent of a fella, he wouldn’t ’a’ give it away that Dr. Driggs is _on to_ the little madam, and just as lief dodge her, if convenient. A party with more tack to’m than Dr. Ballard would ’a’ kep’ that dark. But there’s where you can’t have everything at oncet, in human bein’s. If a fella’s got a lotta tack, an’ the kind o’ light fantastic toe that, every time he opens his mouth, he don’t put his foot into it, he’s more than like to be the kind that thinks twicet before he speaks, which, it may be wise, but ain’t as hearty, an’ uncalkerlatin’ as _I’d_ like in a husband. On the other hand, a fella that speaks, without stoppin’ to count the costs, why, it’s ten to one, a woman’ll have to pay ’em, in the end, but anyhow she’ll have the comfort o’ knowin’ his heart’s in the right place, which, it ain’t forever takin’ the elevator up to the top floor, to consult with his brains. I’m sorry them two young things _got in_ wrong as regards each other. But it won’t stop the course o’ human events, so far as they’re concerned, even if it does delay it some. I’m not a bit worried." Sam paused in the act of pulling off a boot. "Say, Martha, you don’t mean you’re at it again?" "’At it’! Me? No! What I mean is, Nature’s bound to get in her fine work, no matter what kinda mater’al’s handed out to her. You remember Miss Claire an’ Lord Ronald? They started in complercatin’ the pattren, as hard as they could, but ’twas no use. They couldn’t get the best o’ Nature, an’ the consequence is, we’re lookin’ for ’em home from their weddin’ tour any time now, an’ if we don’t get busy, the decorations won’t be ready for my celebration proceeding." The morning of the great day on which the Ronalds were expected to arrive, Martha was astir at sunrise, summoning her brood with the call: "Miss Claire’s comin’ home! Miss Claire’s comin’ home!" "I’d call her _Missis_, considering," suggested Sam, yawning as he tucked his pillow more comfortably beneath his rough cheek. "All right, call her it, if it’s a comfort to you. Only get a move on," his wife replied, plucking the pillow unceremoniously out from under, giving it a mighty shake, and setting it across the sleeping-porch rail to air.