"I want to see if you can tell me who this is." Amanda took the photograph and held it toward the light.

She compressed her lips and wrinkled her forehead.

"Why, it's you, of course--ain't it ?" Mrs.Field made no reply; she stood looking at her.
"Why, ain't it you ?" Amanda asked, looking from the picture to her in a bewildered way.
"No; it's Esther." "Esther ?" "Yes, it's Esther." "Well, I declare! When was it took ?" "About ten years ago, when she was in Elliot." "Well, all I've got to say is, if anybody had asked me, I'd have said it was took for you yesterday.

Why, Mis' Field, what's the matter ?" "There ain't anything the matter." "Why, you look dreadfully." Mrs.Field's face was pale, and there was a curious look about her whole figure.

It seemed as if shrinking from something, twisting itself rigidly, as a fossil tree might shrink in a wind that could move it.
"I feel well 'nough," said she.