She caught her breath and faltered.

The mother rose and took her in her arms, and, drawing her head down to her wrinkled cheek, patted her softly.

“Thar, honey, thar. I reckon your ol’ maw knows a heap more’n you think. You keep mighty still, but you can’t fool her.”

Cassandra drew herself together. “Why didn’t Martha come up this evening?”

“She war makin’ ready, in her triflin’ slow way, an’ then Frale come down an’ said that word, an’ I knew right quick ‘at ther war somethin’ behind — his way war that quare — so I told Marthy to set him out a good suppah, an’ I’d stop up here myself this night. She war right glad to do hit. Fool, she be! I could see how she went plumb silly ovah Frale all to onc’t.”

“Mothah,