Phebe's lip curled very disdainfully. What a fuss to make over a man, and
how Bell had changed in the last few years!

"Well, keep him, if you can, but I'll be even with you yet," said Amy,
with an ominous smile. "And what luck! Here comes Mr. Moulton now, and I
know him and you don't, and I'll pay you off on the spot. Good-morning,
Mr. Moulton."

The young gentleman stopped, in his turn, at the gate as Amy
spoke to him.

"Oh, Miss Duckworth, I was on my way to call on you."

"I will go home with you in a minute," said Amy, graciously. "I wouldn't
miss your call for any thing. But first let me introduce you to my
friends. Miss Mudge, Mr. Moulton,--Miss Lane, the Misses Dexter. You
will meet us all again at Mrs. Upjohn's. Of course, you are going?"

"Certainly, now I am told that I shall meet you there, and if you will
promise that I shan't be called upon to do any thing remarkable. I have
heard alarming reports."

"That is out of anyone's power to promise," replied Miss Duckworth. "No
genius is safe from her."

"Amy, love," broke in Bell, with infinite gentleness of tone and manner,
"you have forgotten to present your friend to me, and I cannot be so
impolite as to leave him standing outside my own gate. I am Miss Masters,
Mr. Moulton. Pray excuse the informality, and come in to share our
lemonade."