Sarah Ellen Dow was more and more excited by a sense of bitter grievance.  Her rule of the afflicted household had evidently been interfered with; she was not accustomed to be ignored and set aside at such times.  Her simple nature and uncommon ability found satisfaction in the exercise of authority, but she had now left her post feeling hurt and wronged, besides knowing something of the pain of honest affliction.

“If it hadn’t been for esteemin’ Sister Barsett as I always have done, I should have told ’em no, an’ held to it, when they asked me to come back an’ watch to-night.  ‘T ain’t for none o’ their sakes, but Sister Barsett was a good friend to me in her way.”  Sarah Ellen broke down once more, and felt in her bundle again hastily, but the handkerchief was again elusive, while a small object fell out upon the doorstep with a bounce.

“‘T ain’t nothin’ but a little taste-cake I spared out o’ the loaf I baked this mornin’,” she explained, with a blush.  “I was so shoved out that I seemed to want to turn my hand to somethin’ useful an’ feel I was still doin’ for Sister Barsett.  Try a little piece, won’t you, Mis’ Crane?  I thought it seemed light an’ good.”

They shared the taste-cake with serious enjoyment, and pronounced it very good indeed when they had finished and shaken the crumbs out of their laps.  “There’s nobody but you shall come an’ do for me at the last, if I can have my way about things,” said Mercy Crane impulsively.  She meant it for a tribute to Miss Dow’s character and general ability, and as such it was meekly accepted.

“You’re a younger person than I be, an’ less wore,” said Sarah Ellen, but she felt better now that she had rested, and her conversational powers seemed to be refreshed by her share of the little cake.  “Doctor Bangs has behaved real pretty, I can say that,” she continued presently in a mournful tone.

“Heretofore, in the sickness of Sister Barsett, I have always felt to hope certain that she would survive; she’s recovered from a sight o’ things in her day.  She has been the first to have all the new diseases that’s visited this region.  I know she had the spinal mergeetis months before there was any other case about,” observed Mrs. Crane with satisfaction.

“An’ the new throat troubles, all of ’em,” agreed Sarah Ellen; “an’ has made trial of all the best patent medicines, an’ could tell you their merits as no one else could in this vicinity.  She never was one that depended on herbs alone, though she considered ’em extremely useful in some cases.  Everybody has their herb, as we know, but I’m free to say that Sister Barsett sometimes done everything she could to kill herself with such rovin’ ways o’ dosin’.  She must see it now she’s gone an’ can’t stuff down no more invigorators.”  Sarah Ellen Dow burst out suddenly with this, as if she could no longer contain her honest opinion.

“There, there! you’re all worked up,” answered placid Mercy Crane, looking more interested than ever.