Don't you know us--Mandy an' Mis' Green an' Mis' Babcock?
We come down on an excursion ticket to Boston--only three dollars an' sixty cents--an' we thought we'd surprise you." "Ain't you dreadful wet, Mis' Field ?" interposed Mrs.Green's solicitous voice.
"You'd better go and change your dress," said Amanda.
"When did you come ?" said Mrs.Field.
"Jest now.

For the land sakes, Mis' Field, your dress is soppin' wet! Do go an' change it, or you'll catch your death of cold." Mrs.Field did not stir.

The hail pelted on the windows.

"Now, you go right along an' change it," cried Mrs.Babcock.
"Well," said Mrs.Field vaguely, "mebbe I'd better." She fumbled her way unsteadily toward her bedroom door.
"You go help her; it's dark as a pocket," said Mrs.Babcock imperatively to Lois; and the girl followed her mother.
"They act dreadful queer, seems to me," whispered Mrs.Babcock, when the bedroom door was closed.
"I guess it's jest because they're so surprised to see us," Mrs.
Green whispered back.
"Well, if I ain't wanted, I can go back to where I come from, if I do have to throw the money away," Mrs.Babcock said, almost aloud.

"I think they act queer, both on 'em.