an' he kin ride dry-shod over a whole community. He's goin' thar
to-night. Mis' Simpkins was at Lithicum's when a nigger fetched the
note. Lizzie was axin' 'er what to put on. She's got a sight o' duds.
They say it's jest old dresses that her cousins in town got tired o'
wearin', but they are ahead o' anything in the finery line out heer."

A look of wretched conviction stamped itself on the girl's delicate
features. Slowly she turned to pick up her flowers, and went with them
to the mantel-piece. There was an empty vase half filled with water,
and into it she tried to place the stems, but they seemed hard to
manage in her quivering fingers, and she finally took the flowers to
her own room across the passage. They heard the sagging door scrape
the floor as she closed it after her.

"Now, I reckon you two are satisfied," said Mrs. Dawson, bitterly.
"Narry one of you hain't one bit o' feelin' ur pity."

Mrs. Slogan shrugged her shoulders, and Peter looked up regretfully,
and then with downcast eyes continued to pull silently at his pipe.

"I jest did what I ort to 'a' done," said Mrs. Slogan. "She ort to
know the truth, an' I tol' 'er."

"You could 'a' gone about it in a more human way," sighed Mrs. Dawson.
"The Lord knows the child's had enough to worry 'er, anyway. She's
been troubled fer the last week about him not comin' like he used to,
an' she'd a-knowed the truth soon enough."

An hour later supper was served, and though her aunt called to her that
it was on the table, Sally Dawson did not appear, so the meal passed in