Melissa's smile deepened, like a growing moon. "Why, Aunt Nancy!" she said with mild wonder.
The old woman led the way into the house. She drew forward a big chair to one of the shaded front windows and pushed up the curtain a little.
"Set down and get cooled off," she said. "I'll get you a drink."
She bustled away and presently returned, bringing a glass of water. A faint, cool mist clouded the outside of the glass.
Melissa took a long, restful draught. "You do have good water. Aunt Nancy," she said, handing back the glass. She settled back comfortably in the chair.
Aunt Nancy took the glass in silence. She carried it to the table across the room. "It's all down hill," she said bitterly as she faced about.
"What is?" said Melissa with a start. She had been looking into the syringa-bush outside the window.
"The path," replied Aunt Nancy.
Melissa's eyes sought the long, straight walk leading to the road. "I don't see's 'tis," she said. "It looks pretty level from here."
"I don't mean that one; that's all right,"—the old woman looked out at it approvingly,—"I mean the one to the well."
"Oh!" Melissa's mouth remained open.
Aunt Nancy's was closed firmly. "The' ain't a place on the farm you can walk on that's level ground," she said at last, opening her lips a crack.
"I don't know's the' is," responded Melissa slowly, "but I like it." She looked out of the window contentedly. The blue hills that rose in the distance showed through a gap in the nearer ones.
"Well, I don't." The old mouth took on a grim look. "I've lived here goin' on sixty-two year now, and I've done nothin' but go up an' down hill all my life. I'd like a little smooth goin' 'fore I die."
"Why, Aunt Nancy,"—the younger woman laughed with a sweet, fresh sound,—"I didn't know's you felt that way."
"Well, I do." The old mouth trembled a little. "I've al'ays felt so. Nobody's known. John never knew. I thought mebbe he would. But he didn't." She glanced across to the opposite hill, where lines of white shone among the trees.
Melissa rocked for a moment in silence. "I'd go down to the Plain on a visit if I was you," she said at last.
"I'm goin', but it won't be no visit,—I'm a-goin' to stay—for good an' all." The words came slowly, as if a plan were forming itself.
Melissa gave a little start. She looked about the room. "What'll you do with the things?" she asked.
