The woman started violently. She turned pale, then she flushed;
she cast a strange glance at her husband, who was regarding both
women with a sort of stolid keenness.
"Yes, I guess I do," faltered the woman finally.
"Well, his first wife was my sister," said Rebecca with the air of
one imparting important intelligence.
"Was she?" responded the other woman feebly. She glanced at her
husband with an expression of doubt and terror, and he shook his
head forbiddingly.
"I'm going to see her, and take my niece Agnes home with me," said
Rebecca.
Then the woman gave such a violent start that she noticed it.
"What is the matter?" she asked.
"Nothin', I guess," replied the woman, with eyes on her husband,
who was slowly shaking his head, like a Chinese toy.
"Is my niece sick?" asked Rebecca with quick suspicion.
"No, she ain't sick," replied the woman with alacrity, then she
caught her breath with a gasp.
"When did you see her?"
"Let me see; I ain't seen her for some little time," replied the
woman. Then she caught her breath again.
"She ought to have grown up real pretty, if she takes after my
sister.
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