“Milton gone aout with the caows?” asked the old lady, ignoring for the once the domestic’s challenge. “When he comes back, he ’n’ Leander better go over to Wilkinses, and get what chairs they kin spare. I s’pose there’ll be a big craowd, ef only to git in and see if there’s any holes in our body-Brussels yit, ’n’ haow that sofy-backed set in the parlor’s holdin’ out. Poor Cicely! I think they better bring over the chairs tonight, after dusk. What people don’t see they can’t talk abaout.” “Heard Milton say he was goin’ to borrer some over at Warren’s,” remarked Alvira, in a casual way, but looking around to see how the idea affected Miss Sabrina. “Well he jis’ won’t!” came the answer, very promptly and spiritedly. “If every mortal soul of ’em hes to stan’ up, he won’t! I guess Lemuel Fairchild’s wife can be buried ’thaout asking any help from Matildy Warren. I wouldn’t ask her if ’twas th’ las’ thing I ever did.” “But Annie sent word she was comin’ over fus’ thing in th’ mornin’, so’s to help clear up th’ breakfast things. If she’s good enough fer that, I don’t see why you need be afeered o’ borryin’ her chairs.” “They ain’t her chairs, and you knaow it, Alviry. I ain’t got a word to say agin’ Annie Fairchild, but when it comes to her gran’ mother, I kin ride a high horse as well’s she kin. After all the trouble she made my family, the sight of a single stick of her furnitur’ here’d be enough to bring the rafters of this haouse daown over my head, I do believe!” “Well, of course, ‘tain’t none o’ my business, but seems to me there’ll be a plaguey slim fun’r’l when _your_ turn comes if you’re goin’ to keep up all these old-woman’s fights with everybody ’raound abaout.” “Naow Alviry!” began Miss Sabrina, in her shrillest and angriest tone; then with a visible effort, as if remembering something, she paused and then went on in a subdued, almost submissive voice, “You knaow jis’ haow Matildy Warren’s used us. From the very day my poor brother William ran off with her Jenny--and goodness knaows whatever possessed him to dew it--thet old woman’s never missed a chance to run us all daown--ez ef she oughtn’t to been praoud o’ th’ day a Fairchild took up with a Warren.” “Guess you ain’t had none the wu’st of it,” put in Alvira, with sarcasm. “Guess your tongue’s ’baout as sharp as her’n ever was. B’sides she’s bed-ridden naow, ’n’ everybody thought she wouldn’t get threw th’ spring. ’N’ ef Seth’s goin’ to make up to Annie, you ought to begin to smooth things over ’fore she dies. There’s no tellin’ but what she mightn’t leave the farm away f’m th’ girl at th’ last minute, jis’ to spite you.” “Yeh needn’t talk as if _I_ wanted her pesky farm!”