to tell you, Mr. Plaisted! for in all things that he needs help, I am my
father's boy--not ghost!" she laughingly added, as Plaisted, startled by
her sudden appearance, almost overbalanced in his chair.

"Bless me! I didn't notice you were there, Miss Dexie," said he, regaining
his equilibrium with an effort. "Guess you've been studying Shakespeare for
my benefit, eh, Miss Dexie?"

"Oh! that's just like Dexie," said Gussie, with a frown. "She always likes
to make a scene when she can. She will want to go on the stage, I expect,
by and by."

"What nonsense! Gussie," said Dexie, smiling good-naturedly, "when all the
theatrical performances we are allowed to attend are those that take place
up in the attic."

"Oh! come now, Miss Dexie. How often do you slip off to plays with that
young chap next door?" said Plaisted, with a sly wink at Gussie. "I often
see you down street together."

"Your eyesight must be remarkably good, then," was the icy reply, "for I
think no one else can accuse me of 'slipping off' with any person."

"By the way, Miss Dexie, I have been wondering what your name is, ever
since I came. Is it an abbreviation or a nick-name?" said Plaisted, anxious
to turn the conversation. "I have never met with a young lady bearing your
name before."

"And you are not likely to meet one again," was the quick reply, as a flush
of anger covered her face.