"Huh!" Dora sniffed, half absently, for she was looking admiringly at the cheap dress Tilly had on. "Huh! you would, too, if you had to live with her and drudge for her like me and him do. She is peevish and fretful. If things go wrong with her when she is out at night she is a very hell-cat in the morning. I've heard her say she was going to kill herself, and when her and my aunt have a scrap, things fly about, I tell you. She is mad now. Oh, my! ain't she mad at John for not telling her about you? She drove out to his work yesterday, and, from what she told my aunt, her and John must have had a big row, right before the men, too. Aunt Jane told her John could have her arrested--that the judge would be on his side. But I reckon John tried to quiet her. He always does when she flies plumb to pieces." Tilly's face was grave and pale. "I think I understand now," she said, in a sinking voice. "Mrs. Trott is out of her mind; John is sensitive about it, and--" "Who's out of her mind--Liz?" The child laughed derisively. "Don't you believe it! Aunt Jane says she has a clear head on her when it comes to getting the best of any deal. They swapped dresses once and Liz hid some big grease spots that didn't show till Aunt Jane was dancing on a platform in the sun at a picnic. That was a whopping, big row, for the laugh was on Aunt Jane and she had no chance to change till she got home." Tilly was bewildered. She told herself, as she sat peering into the guileless eyes before her, that she must know more than she did know and this was an opportunity. "I made some fresh cake yesterday," she said. "Wait; I'll get you some. It has icing on it, and jelly between the layers." But Dora refused to be treated as a formal visitor. She followed Tilly into the kitchen, now clutching her ribbons and swinging her broad hat in her hand. "John said you was a good cook," she remarked. "He said you was too hard-worked up there, and that he was going to give you a long, sweet rest. Lord! that boy thinks the sun rises and sets in you! He said you was pretty, but I don't think you are extra. Do you?" "No, I'm anything else." Tilly was now cutting the big, white cake. The situation was too grave for personal trivialities. She put a slice on a plate and handed it to the child. Dora took the cake, declined the plate, and began eating eagerly, smearing her lips with the jelly and licking them with an encircling tongue. She had put her hat and gloves on a table and was becoming even more communicative. "I love cake like this with wine," she said. "Have you any about?" "No. My parents are opposed to wine," Tilly said. "Surely you, as young as you are, don't drink it?"