Mary E. Wilkins

“ Mrs. Daggett took a cautious glance as she passed the gate; then she stopped short. "Good land!" she exclaimed, "it ain't anybody but Abel Rice. If we ain't a passel of fools!" She could see between the trees a tall man with a yellow beard leaning against the front door of the Primrose house.
"Are you sure it's him?" quavered Mrs. Rowe.
"Course I'm sure. Don't you s'pose I know Abel Rice? If it ain't the greatest piece of work! There, I knew all about his goin' there an' ringin' the bell." ”

“ She had walked from Lennox; she had not money enough to pay her fare in the coach which ran between the two villages. It rattled past her on the road; the passengers thrust out their heads and stared at her. "I declare, I believe that's Maria Primrose," said one woman to another. Maria Primrose, to call her as her old neighbors did by her maiden name, toiled slowly up Primrose Hill. She was a middle-aged woman, with a slender figure like a girl's; but her face, which had been handsome, had not kept its youth so well ”

“ Folks must have a weak spot somewhere, or it would take something more than love to tip 'em over. I guess none of the Rices are any too smart, when it comes right down to it. It ain't a family I should want to get into."
Annie never said a word; she crocheted faster.
Mrs. Rowe had dropped her shawl-pin, and had been hunting for it. Just then she found it, and rose up. "I should be kind of afraid if Frank Rice had any—such kind of trouble, it might affect him the same way. Shouldn't you?" ”