everybody would say it was flying in the face of tradition, after the
Trowbridge place has been white two hundred years."

"There comes the mail," called Jean, starting up and running down the
drive like a young deer, as the little cart hove in sight. The carrier
waved a newspaper and letter at them.

"Nothin' for you girls, to-day, only a letter for your pa, and weekly
newspaper for Hiram. I'll leave it up at the old place as I go by." He
added as a happy afterthought to relieve any possible anxiety on their
part, "It's from Delphi, Mich."

Kit stood transfixed with wonder, as he passed on up the hill.

"Jean," she said, slowly, "there's something awfully queer about me. I
heard Cousin Roxy say once, I was born with a veil, and ought to be able
to prognosticate. That letter was from Uncle Cassius Cato Peabody."

"Well, what if it is?" asked Jean, shaking the needles from her serge
skirt as she rose leisurely.

Kit drew on her freshman knowledge of ancient history, and quoted:

"Last night the eagles circled over Rome,
And Caesar's destiny----"

Jean laughed and pointed to a line of crows rising leisurely from a clump
of pine woods.

"What does it mean when the crows circle over Gilead?"