"No," returned Lucy quickly, "and I've been sorry. It seems a pity we shouldn't be friends even if----" she stopped, embarrassed. "Even if your aunt an' Martin do act like a pair of fools," interrupted Jane. "Senseless, ain't it! Besides, it ain't Christian livin' at odds with people. I never did approve of it." "I'm sure I don't." Jane nodded. "We imagined you were like that," she said. "I told Mary an' 'Liza so the day you come for the eggs. 'She ain't like her aunt,' I says to Mary, 'not a mite; an' you can be pretty sure she won't be in sympathy with all this squabblin' an' back-bitin'.'" "Indeed I'm not." "We ain't either, not one of us. We'd like nothin' better'n to be neighborly an' run in. It's the only decent way of doin' when folks live side by side. But Martin wouldn't listen to our doin' it, even if your aunt would--which I know she wouldn't. He's awful set against the Websters." "How silly it seems!" "That's what I tell him," Jane declared. "Of course your aunt's an old woman, an' 'tain't surprisin' she should harbor a grudge against us. But Martin's younger, an' had oughter be more forgivin'. It's nonsensical feelin' you've got to be just as sour an' crabbed as your grandfather was. I don't humor him in it--at least not more'n I have to to keep the peace. But Mary an' 'Liza hang on to every word Martin utters. If he was to say blue was green, they'd say so too. They'd no more do a thing he wouldn't like 'em to than they'd cut off their heads. They wouldn't dare. I 'spect they'll have a spasm when they see you come walkin' in to-night." "Maybe I ought not to come," Lucy murmured in a disappointed voice. "Yes, you ought," Jane said with decision. "Why should we keep up a quarrel none of us approve of? Martin ain't home. It's nothin' to him." "Well, if you're sure you want me," Lucy laughed and dimpled. "If I hadn't wanted you, you may be pretty sure I shouldn't have asked you," retorted Jane bluntly. "Mary an' 'Liza will likely be scat to death at first, but they'll get over it an' thaw out. Don't pay no attention to 'em." Jane had ascended the steps and her hand was on the latch. "I feel like a child playing truant," said Lucy, a flush of excitement tinting her cheek. "You see, my aunt wouldn't like my being here any more than Mar--than your brother would." "What they don't know won't hurt 'em," was Jane's brief answer. "Oh, I shall tell Aunt Ellen." "I shan't tell Martin. He'd rage somethin' awful." She threw open the door. Lucy saw her stiffen with resolution. "I picked up Miss Lucy Webster on the road an' brought her home to tea!" she called from the threshold. Mary and Eliza were busy at the kitchen table. At the words they turned and automatically gasped the one phrase that always sprang to their lips in every emergency: "Oh, Jane!" "Martin's away an' so's Ellen Webster," went on Jane recklessly. "Why shouldn't we do a bit of neighborin' together, now we've got the chance?"