“Yes’m,” said Miss Wright, “that’s where they live now, poor things.  I know the place, though I ain’t been up here for years.  You don’t suppose, Mis’ Trimble—­I ain’t seen the girls out to meetin’ all winter.  I’ve re’lly been covetin’”—­

“Why, yes, Rebecca, of course we could stop,” answered Mrs. Trimble heartily.  “The exercises was over earlier ‘n I expected, an’ you’re goin’ to remain over night long o’ me, you know.  There won’t be no tea till we git there, so we can’t be late.  I’m in the habit o’ sendin’ a basket to the Bray girls when any o’ our folks is comin’ this way, but I ain’t been to see ’em since they moved up here.  Why, it must be a good deal over a year ago.  I know ’t was in the late winter they had to make the move.  ‘T was cruel hard, I must say, an’ if I hadn’t been down with my pleurisy fever I’d have stirred round an’ done somethin’ about it.  There was a good deal o’ sickness at the time, an’—­well, ’t was kind o’ rushed through, breakin’ of ’em up, an’ lots o’ folks blamed the selec’men; but when ’t was done, ‘t was done, an’ nobody took holt to undo it.  Ann an’ Mandy looked same’s ever when they come to meetin’, ‘long in the summer,—­kind o’ wishful, perhaps.  They’ve always sent me word they was gittin’ on pretty comfortable.”

“That would be their way,” said Rebecca Wright.  “They never was any hand to complain, though Mandy’s less cheerful than Ann.  If Mandy ’d been spared such poor eyesight, an’ Ann hadn’t got her lame wrist that wa’n’t set right, they’d kep’ off the town fast enough.  They both shed tears when they talked to me about havin’ to break up, when I went to see ’em before I went over to brother Asa’s.  You see we was brought up neighbors, an’ we went to school together, the Brays an’ me.  ’T was a special Providence brought us home this road, I’ve been so covetin’ a chance to git to see ’em.  My lameness hampers me.”

“I’m glad we come this way, myself,” said Mrs. Trimble.

“I’d like to see just how they fare,” Miss Rebecca Wright continued.  “They give their consent to goin’ on the town because they knew they’d got to be dependent, an’ so they felt ’t would come easier for all than for a few to help ’em.  They acted real dignified an’ right-minded, contrary to what most do in such cases, but they was dreadful anxious to see who would bid ’em off, town-meeting day; they did so hope ’t would be somebody right in the village.  I just sat down an’ cried good when I found Abel Janes’s folks had got hold of ’em.  They always had the name of bein’ slack an’ poor-spirited, an’ they did it just for what they got out o’ the town.  The selectmen this last year ain’t what we have had.  I hope they’ve been considerate about the Bray girls.”

“I should have be’n more considerate about fetchin’ of you over,” apologized Mrs. Trimble.  “I’ve got my horse, an’ you’re lame-footed; ’tis too far for you to come.  But time does slip away with busy folks, an’ I forgit a good deal I ought to remember.”