They had lived so long alone in the house in absolute quiet, save for the semi-occasional stir of Marty's desultory house-cleaning, that these sounds were disturbing, and not pleasant to hear.

Stephen did not like them much better than his mother did; and he gave her great pleasure by remarking, as he bade her good-night,-- "I suppose those people next door will get settled in a day or two, and then we can have a quiet evening again." "I should hope so," replied his mother.

"I should think that a caravan of camels needn't have made so much noise.

It's astonishing to me that folks can't do things without making a racket; but I think some people feel themselves of more consequence when they're making a great noise." The next morning, as Stephen was bidding his mother good-morning, he accidentally glanced out of the window, and saw Mercy walking slowly away from the house with a little basket on her arm.
"She'll go to market every morning," he thought to himself.

"I shall see her then." Not the slightest glance of Stephen's eye ever escaped his mother's notice.
"Ah! there goes the lady," she said.