little Jane to give unpleasant orders, not from herself but from Miss
Mary, large, docile, helpless Miss Mary Wadsmith who could never think
out any orders to give Anna from herself.

Anna's eyes grew slowly sharper, harder, and her lower teeth thrust a
little forward and pressing strongly up, framed always more slowly the
"Yes, Miss Jane," to the quick, "Oh Anna! Miss Mary says she wants you
to do it so!"

On the day of their migration, Miss Mary had been already put into the
carriage. "Oh, Anna!" cried little Jane running back into the house,
"Miss Mary says that you are to bring along the blue dressings out of
her room and mine." Anna's body stiffened, "We never use them in the
summer, Miss Jane," she said thickly. "Yes Anna, but Miss Mary thinks
it would be nice, and she told me to tell you not to forget, good-by!"
and the little girl skipped lightly down the steps into the carriage
and they drove away.

Anna stood still on the steps, her eyes hard and sharp and shining,
and her body and her face stiff with resentment. And then she went
into the house, giving the door a shattering slam.

Anna was very hard to live with in those next three days. Even Baby,
the new puppy, the pride of Anna's heart, a present from her friend
the widow, Mrs. Lehntman--even this pretty little black and tan felt
the heat of Anna's scorching flame. And Edgar, who had looked forward
to these days, to be for him filled full of freedom and of things to
eat--he could not rest a moment in Anna's bitter sight.

On the third day, Anna and Edgar went to the Wadsmith country home.