A Farmer’s Life 
herself, and probably caused more work one way 
than she saved another. And meanwhile the 
beloved sister lay upstairs, in pain and dying. 
That Ann was overwrought was never said, in 
my hearing. Yet it may be suspected, from one 
circumstance that was told, was whispered rather, 
afterwards. I give it from hearsay, for she never 
spoke of itto me. A night or two before Susan’s 
death, her wraith had been met by Ann on the 
stairs, or a formless figure had been seen by her 
at the foot of the bed. I don’t know which it 
was; but Ann never doubted it. She was no 
spiritualist ; on the other hand, she had no psy- 
chology to guard her against what her own weary 
brain might do. She told piteous things about 
her sister’s death, tender things about the thought- 
ful kindness the Longmans at Farnborough 
Hill showed to the dying woman. ‘The death 
happened in Odétober 1881, Susan being then 
about fifty-eight years old. 
The old mother, with Ann to take care of her, 
remained at the farm another year and a half. 
She had spent over sixty years there. Then she 
too died (February 1883), being about eighty- 
five years old; and once more Ann was without 
a home. 
4 
For though John, who had been running the 
farm for his mother, moved into the house, he 
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