That evening Charlotte sat on the door-step in the soft spring twilight.

Her mother had just come home from her sister Hannah Berry's.

"Thomas Payne went this afternoon," her mother said, standing before her.
"Did he ?" said Charlotte.
"You might have had him if you hadn't stuck to a poor stick that ain't fit to tie your shoes up!" Sarah cried out, with sudden bitterness.

Her voice sounded like Hannah Berry's.

Charlotte knew that was just what her aunt Hannah had said about it.
"I don't ask him to tie my shoes up," returned Charlotte.
"You can stan' up for him all you want to," said her mother.