“Been visitin’ with ’Lijah?” she asked with interest. “I expect you had
kind of a dull session; he ain’t the talkin’ kind; dwellin’ so much long
o’ fish seems to make ’em lose the gift o’ speech.” But when I told her
that Mr. Tilley had been talking to me that day, she interrupted me
quickly.
“Then ’twas all about his wife, an’ he can’t say nothin’ too pleasant
neither. She was modest with strangers, but there ain’t one o’ her old
friends can ever make up her loss. For me, I don’t want to go there no
more. There’s some folks you miss and some folks you don’t, when they’re
gone, but there ain’t hardly a day I don’t think o’ dear Sarah Tilley.
She was always right there; yes, you knew just where to find her like a
plain flower. ’Lijah’s worthy enough; I do esteem ’Lijah, but he’s a
ploddin’ man.”
XXI.
A DUNNET SHEPHERDESS.