She had tried to keep the fact of her sewing for a living from the Green River women.

She knew how people in Elliot talked about it, and estranged as she was from her mother, she wanted no more reflections cast upon her.
But Mrs.Babcock peeped out of a window as Lois went down the path.
"She's got a bundle," she whispered.

"I tell you what 'tis, I suspect that girl is sewin' for somebody to earn money.

I should think her mother would be ashamed of herself." Lois had a half mile to walk, and she stayed awhile at the dressmaker's to sew.

When she started homeward it was nearly three o'clock.
It was a beautiful afternoon, the house yards were full of the late summer flowers, the fields were white and gold with arnica and wild-carrot instead of buttercups and daisies, the blackberries were ripe along the road-side, and there were sturdy thickets of weeds picked out with golden buttons of tansy over the stone walls.