"If it was a question o’ givin’ her a good scrubdown," she observed, "I wouldn’t hesitate a minute. Or even layin’ a hand to her horns, to polish’m up a bit, which they certaintly do look sorta like they needed it. But _milk_ her! I’m afraid her an’ me won’t understand each other on the milk question. There might be differculties, meanin’ no offense on either side." "She’s a good cow," declared the Swedish Peter. "She is what they call Alderney, and her milk it is boss milk, thick mit cream. You will relish her milk." Martha’s face was grave. "I don’t doubt your word, young fella," she assured him meditatively. "What I’m wonderin’ is, when her an’ me has wrastled through our first round, will my injuries be such as I’ll ever relish anything, any more?" Sam senior smiled. "I’m afraid you’re taking her hard, mother. You’ll soon get the hang of her." "No sooner than she’s like to get the hang o’ me," returned Martha. "She ain’t like hens. You can tell by their slopin’-back foreheads, hens ain’t much of any, on intellec’. But this cow’s differ’nt. I wouldn’t like to bet, now, I got a mite more sense’n her, if it come to a argument between us. An’ she certaintly has the best o’ me, so far as fightin’ qualifercations goes." "Well, anyhow, you’ve got to thank Madam Crewe," Sam Slawson mildly dictated. "She’s given you a big present, and you must show her you’re grateful." "Certaintly. I’ll go out there this very afternoon, an’ show her," replied his wife obediently. So it was, that the tiny old lady, sitting up that afternoon for the first time since her seizure, saw through the open window, beside which her chair had been placed, Mrs. Slawson advancing along the driveway. A quick gleam of satisfaction lit up the unanimated little mask for an instant, while the Madam gave a low grunt of approbation. "Decent creature. Comes to thank at once. That’s mannerly, beyond her station," she observed to Katherine. "Have her up." Not for the world would Madam Crewe have admitted to herself, much less to her granddaughter, that she had grown to like this "creature" made of such different clay from herself. She was willing, not glad to see her, but her willingness caused a gentle glow to permeate her cold little frame. "So you like the cow? That’s good. I hope you’ll treat her well." Mrs. Slawson smiled. "Certaintly, I’ll treat her well, providin’ she gives me a show," she promised cordially. "I’ll treat her well, an’ I hope she’ll treat me the same." "You’re not afraid of her?"