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"And Nat's about's good as any boy," went on ma. "Boys is

turr'ble hard to fetch up so they don't disgrace ye and send ye

to the grave with gray head bowed in sorter, as the poet says.

Nat ain't bad. He speaks sharp to his mother once in a while, but

la--what boy don't? I think he'll treat Nellie right and be a

good man to her."

"Ma," said Elsa, and her voice was quiet and intense as though

she were keeping herself well in hand, "that's what every one

thinks about Nat Burns."

"Wal," asked the elder woman, slightly resentful, "don't you

think so?"

"What I think has nothing whatever to do with the question. But

what I know might have. I don't want Nellie's life ruined, that's

all."

"Look here, Elsa, what're you drivin' at?" Ma Turner was becoming

wrought up. She knew there must be something behind these hints

or Elsa would never venture on such thin ice with her.

"Ye be'n't by any means jealous o' Nellie, be ye?" she asked,

peering through her spectacles.