Well, there's one thing about it--this world ain't _our_ abidin'-place." Mrs.Babcock shook her head resolutely, and began to fold up her work.

She rolled the unbleached cloth into a hard smooth bundle, with the scissors, thimble, and thread inside, and the needle quilted in.
"You ain't goin' ?" said Amanda.
"Yes, I guess I must.

I've got to be home by half-past five to get supper, an' I thought I'd jest look in at Mis' Field's a minute.

Do you s'pose she's to home ?" "I shouldn't wonder if she was.

I ain't seen her go out anywhere." "Well, I dun'no' when I've been in there, an' I dun'no' but she'd think it was kinder queer if I went right into the house and didn't go near her." Amanda arose, letting the mat slide to the floor, and went into the bedroom to get Mrs.Babcock's bonnet and light shawl.
"I wish you wouldn't be in such a hurry," said she, using the village formula of hospitality to a departing guest.
"It don't seem to me I've been in much of a hurry.