It was pleasant there in the kitchen. The
sun shone into my bath-water through the
west half-window, and a big Maltese cat came
up and rubbed himself against the tub, watch-
ing me curiously. While I scrubbed, my grand-
mother busied herself in the dining-room until
I called anxiously, "Grandmother, I'm afraid
the cakes are burning!" Then she came laugh-
ing, waving her apron before her as if she were
shooing chickens.

She was a spare, tall woman, a little stooped,
and she was apt to carry her head thrust for-
ward in an attitude of attention, as if she were
looking at something, or listening to some-
thing, far away. As I grew older, I came to
believe that it was only because she was so
often thinking of things that were far away.
She was quick-footed and energetic in all her
movements. Her voice was high and rather
shrill, and she often spoke with an anxious in-
flection, for she was exceedingly desirous that
everything should go with due order and de-
corum. Her laugh, too, was high, and perhaps
a little strident, but there was a lively intelli-
gence in it. She was then fifty-five years old,
a strong woman, of unusual endurance.

After I was dressed I explored the long cellar

[[11]]

p010 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p011w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p012

v?