"Idleness!" quoth Miss Hepsy wrathfully. "I'd take a rope's end to
him if he didn't keep a civil tongue in his head. The gal's bad
enough; though she never speaks back she looks at me that proud-like
wi' them great eyes o' her'n, I feel as if I'd like to shake her.
There'll never be a day's peace now they've come."

"Tell ye what, though, Hepsy," said Josh. "I'm gwine to pay off
Brahm, an' make Tom do his work. He ain't that much younger, an' he
looks strong enough! Couldn't you do without Keziah, and that would
square expenses?"

"I'll see how the child turns out in a week or so. She's a pinin'
thing--doesn't eat enough to keep a mouse alive."

"It's a thankless thing, any way ye like to take it, Hepsy, hevin'
other folks' youngsters round. I don't see why we should be bothered
with 'em;" with which remark Josh went to bed.

Lucy awoke next morning, remembering it was Sunday, with a feeling of
gladness that they might perhaps chance to see their friend Mr.
Goldthwaite at church. The Strongs were regular as clock-work in
their half-day attendance at the meeting-house. The morn'ng was
devoted to feeding cattle, pigs, and poultry, and tidying up the
house; and after dinner the premises were left in charge of Brahm and
Keziah, and the master and mistress turned their footsteps towards
Pendlepoint. The meeting-house was almost close to the parsonage, and
was a pretty, primitive structure, with no attempt at display or
decoration, and yet so pleasant and homelike inside that Lucy felt a
sense of rest as her eyes wandered round it. Tom nudged her and
whispered, "Nice little chapel, Lucy;" at which Miss Hepsy held up a