"Mummer, or mother ?" "I shall call her whatever I please," replied Maria; "it is nobody's business." Then she arose and went out of the room, with an absurd little strut.
"Lord a-massy!" observed Mrs.Jonas White, after she had gone.
"I guess Ida Slome will have her hands full with that young one," observed Lillian.
"I guess she will, too," assented her mother.

"She was real sassy.
Well, her mother had a temper of her own; guess she's got some of it." Mr.Jonas White and Henry were a great alleviation of Maria's desolate estate during her father's absence.

Somehow, the men seemed to understand better than the women just how she felt: that she would rather be let alone, now it was all over, than condoled with and pitied.

Mr.Henry White took one of the market horses, hitched him into a light buggy, and took Maria out riding two evenings, when the market was closed.

It was a warm November, and the moon was full.
Maria quite enjoyed her drive with Mr.Henry White, and he never said one word about her father's marriage, and her new mother--her pronoun of a mother--all the way.