Now you listen, Abby; all I want, is to
do what honest business I can with this young woman. She's bound to
spend her money, and she's kind of took to me; comes into th' store
after her mail, and hangs around and buys the greatest lot o' stuff--
'Land!' I says to her: 'a body'd think you was getting ready to get
married.'"
"Well, now I shouldn't wonder--" began Mrs. Daggett eagerly.
"Don't you get excited, Abby. She says she ain't; real pointed, too.
But about this wall paper; I don't know as I can match up them
stripes and figures. I wisht you'd go an' see her, Abby. She'll tell
you all about it. An' her scheme about collecting all the old Bolton
furniture is perfectly ridiculous. 'Twouldn't be worth shucks after
kickin' 'round folk's houses here in Brookville for the last fifteen
years or so."
"But you can't never find her at home, Henry," said Mrs. Daggett. "I
been to see her lots of times; but Mis' Solomon Black says she don't
stay in the house hardly long enough to eat her victuals."
"Why don't you take the buggy, Abby, and drive out to the old place?"
suggested Mr. Daggett. "Likely you'll find her there. She appears to
take an interest in every nail that's drove. I can spare the horse
this afternoon just as well as not."
"'Twould be pleasant," purred Mrs. Daggett. "But, I suppose, by
rights, I ought to take Lois along."
"Nope," disagreed her husband, shaking his head. "Don't you take
Lois; she wouldn't talk confiding to Lois, the way she would to you.
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