They all laughed at that, and Fleda's cheeks growing crimson, Mrs. Plumfield stepped forward to ask after the old lady's health; and while she talked and listened Fleda's eyes noted the spotless condition of the room--the white table, the nice rag-carpet, the bright many-coloured patch-work counterpane on the bed, the brilliant cleanliness of the floor where the small carpet left the boards bare, the tidy look of the two women; and she made up her mind that _she_ could get along with Miss Barbara very well. Barby was rather tall, and in face decidedly a fine-looking woman, though her figure had the usual scantling proportions which nature or fashion assigns to the hard-working dwellers in the country. A handsome quick grey eye and the mouth were sufficiently expressive of character, and perhaps of temper, but there were no lines of anything sinister or surly; you could imagine a flash, but not a cloud. "Barby, you are not tied at home any longer, are you?" said Mrs. Plumfield, coming back from the old lady and speaking rather low;--"now that Hetty is here, can't your mother spare you?" "Well I reckon she could, Mis' Plumfield,--if I could work it so that she'd be more comfortable by my being away." "Then you'd have no objection to go out again?" "Where to?" "Fleda's uncle, you know, has taken my brother's old place, and they have no help. They want somebody to take the whole management--just you, Barby. Mrs. Rossitur isn't strong." "Nor don't want to be, does she? I've heerd tell of her. Mis' Plumfield, I should despise to have as many legs and arms as other folks and not be able to help myself!" "But you wouldn't despise to help other folks, I hope," said Mrs. Plumfield smiling. "People that want you very much too," said Fleda; for she quite longed to have that strong hand and healthy eye to rely upon at home. Barby looked at her with a relaxed face, and after a little consideration said "she guessed she'd try." "Mis' Plumfield," cried the old lady as they were moving,--"Mis' Plumfield, you said you'd send me a piece of pork." "I haven't forgotten it, Mrs. Elster--you shall have it." "Well you get it out for me yourself," said the old woman speaking very energetically,--"don't you send no one else to the barrel for't; because I know you'll give me the biggest piece." Mrs. Plumfield laughed and promised. "I'll come up and work it out some odd day," said the daughter nodding intelligently as she followed them to the door. "We'll talk about that," said Mrs. Plumfield. "She was wonderful pleased with the pie," said Barby, "and so was Hetty; she ha'n't seen anything so good, she says, since she quit Queechy." "Well, Barby," said Mrs. Plumfield, as she turned and grasped her hand, "did you remember your Thanksgiving over it?" "Yes, Mis' Plumfield," and the fine grey eyes fell to the floor,--"but I minded it only because it had come from you. I seemed to hear you saying just that out of every bone I picked."