"Well, I must be movin’. I took the liberty to bring you a form o’ Spanish cream I made this afternoon. It’s kind o’ cool an’ refreshin’, when you ain’t an appetite for substantialler things." Passing Katherine’s door she paused and lightly tapped on the panel. There was no answer. She dared not take it on herself to turn the knob, so went slowly downstairs, and, finally, out of the house and grounds. Once in the road she saw, a short distance ahead of her, an easily recognizable figure. "Oh—Miss Katherine!" she called softly. For a moment the girl seemed undecided what to do. She walked on as if she had not heard the call, then suddenly wheeled about and stopped. "I was afraid I’d missed you," Mrs. Slawson said casually. "All I wanted, was to tell you that if your gran’ma shouldn’t be so well after her faintin’-spell, why, I’m ready to come an’ help any time, be it night or day." Katherine looked up, her face changing quickly. "Fainting-spell?" She echoed the words vaguely. "Yes. She come out o’ this one all right, but if she had another you couldn’t tell, at her age, poor ol’ lady! Thanks be! it wasn’t a stroke. Anyhow, I’d advise you keep Eunice Youngs overnight, to run an’ carry, if need be." The struggle was short and sharp. Martha pretended not to see. She pretended not to be aware that Miss Katherine had on her traveling hat, carried her coat over her arm, a bag in her hand. "I’ll go back!" the girl said at last, as if ending a debate. "Be sure you send if you need me," Martha repeated. They parted without another word, and Mrs. Slawson, resuming her homeward way, summed up the case to herself. "Yes, she’s gone back this time. But come another tug o’ war between her an’ the ol’ lady, an’ I wouldn’t be so certain. I wonder now, how my young vagabone is doin’, which her brothers an’ sisters are all out on the still-hunt, searchin’ for her this minute." She had barely reached the house, and was busying herself with preliminary supper preparations, before starting out again to look for her stray lamb, when the screen-door was gently opened from without, and a small person, very grimy as to outward visible signs, very chastened as to inward spiritual grace, entered the kitchen quietly. Martha appeared totally unconscious of any other presence than her own, until Sabina’s mind became vaguely troubled with doubts of her own substantiality. Her pilgrim’s pack slipped from her shoulder, the "gulf-stick" fell clattering to the floor. Even then Mrs. Slawson made no sign.