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Excerpt from Silhouettes of American Life
Miss Dilly had had this pain only since she had lived in the lowland. It had almost disabled her. She was born in the mountains up on the Old Black - and she fancied that if she could go back to them she would be cured. But her younger brother, James, owned this farm and inn, and when their mother died, twenty years ago, he had agreed with Preston Barr that he should have both, rent free, if he would give Dilly a home and the yield of one field of tobacco yearly. James then set off to the West to make his fortune. Letters at first came regularly. But it was ten years now since she had heard from him.
Nobody ever heard a groan from Miss Dilly when the attacks of pain came on.
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