She married Richard Alger a while ago, after she'd been goin' with him over twenty year.

He's fixed up the old Crane place.

It got dreadful run down, an' Sylvy she actually set out for the poor-house, an' Richard he stopped Jonathan Leavitt, he was carryin' of her over there, an' he brought her home, an' married her right off.

That brought him to the point.

Sylvy lives on the old road; we can drive round that way when we go home, an' I'll show you the place." When they presently drove down the green length of the old road, the visiting cousin spied interestedly at Sylvia's house and Sylvia's own delicate profile frilled about with lace, drooping like the raceme of some white flower in one of the windows.
"That's her at the window," whispered the Pembroke woman, "an' there's Richard out there in the bean-poles." Just then Richard peered out at them from the green ranks of the beans at the sound of their wheels, and the Pembroke woman nodded, with a cough.
They drove slowly out of the old road into the main-travelled one, and presently passed the old Thayer house.