The woman, who had been looking in the glass while she talked, gave her front hair a little shake, and turned toward her inquiringly.
"Won't you sit down in this rockin'-chair, Mis' Jay ?" said Mrs.
Field.
"No, thank you, I guess I won't set down, I'm in a little of a hurry.
I jest wanted to see you a minute." Mrs.Field waited.
"You know Mr.Maxwell's dyin' so sudden made a good deal of a change for me," Mrs.Jay continued.

She took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes softly; then she glanced in the glass.

"I'd had my home here a good many years, an' it seemed hard to lose it all in a minute so.
There he came home that Sunday noon an' eat a hearty dinner, an' before sunset he had that shock, and never spoke afterward.

I've thought maybe there were things he would have said if he could have spoke." Mrs.Jay sighed heavily; her eyes reddened; she straightened her bonnet absently; her silvered fair hair was frizzed under it.
Mrs.Field stood opposite, her eyes downcast, her face rigid.
"I wanted to speak to you, Mis' Maxwell," the other woman went on.

"I ain't obliged to go out anywheres to live; I've got property; but it's kind of lonesome at my sister's, where I'm livin'.