up.... Aren't you going to get out, girls?"

The two girls still sat on the high front seat of the carryall; both
were gazing at Lydia in her simple morning frock. There were no
flowers on Lydia's Panama hat; nothing but a plain black band; but it
had an air of style and elegance. Fanny was wishing she had bought a
plain hat without roses. Ellen tossed her dark head:

"I don't know," she said. "You aren't going to stay long; are you,
mother?"

"For pity sake, Ellen!" expostulated Mrs. Dodge briskly. "Of course
you'll get out, and you, too, Fanny. The horse'll stand."

"Please do!" entreated Lydia.

Thus urged, the girls reluctantly descended. Neither was in the habit
of concealing her feelings under the convenient cloak of society
observance, and both were jealously suspicious of Lydia Orr. Fanny
had met her only the week before, walking with Wesley Elliot along
the village street. And Mrs. Solomon Black had told Mrs. Fulsom, and
Mrs. Fulsom had told Mrs. Deacon Whittle, and Mrs. Whittle had told
another woman, who had felt it to be her Christian duty (however
unpleasant) to inform Fanny that the minister was "payin' attention
to Miss Orr."

"Of course," the woman had pointed out, "it wasn't to be wondered at,
special, seeing the Orr girl had every chance in the world to catch
him--living right in the same house with him." Then she had further
stated her opinions of men in general for Fanny's benefit. All