little one, saying, "Daisy must learn not to tell all her little
thoughts," it all came so clearly, and I trembled visibly; yes, I guess
it was rather more than visible, since an unfortunate tilt in my chair,
an involuntary effort of trying to poise brain and body at once, upset
cup and saucer and plate, and before I knew it Mrs. Hanson had deluged
me with bay rum. They said I nearly fainted, but I realized nothing save
the ludicrous figure I presented, and I thought desparingly "Emily did
it." After supper I went to the library, and there it was--this piece of
work which Hal had done, representing me sitting under that old apple
tree, hemming and thinking. It was so perfectly done, even to the plain
ring on my middle finger, a wide old-fashioned ring which had been my
grandmother Minot's, and bore the initials "E.M." I could not speak when
I saw it, and if I could I should not have dared to for fear of some
unfortunate expression. I wished in my heart it had been any one else
but me.

"If my face had been like Hal's," I thought, and I stood as one covered
with a mantle and bound by its heavy folds, until the gentle voice of
Mrs. Hanson roused me, saying:

"Take a seat, Miss Minot, you are very tired." Yes, I was tired, though
I did not know it, and taking the chair she proffered, I covered my face
with both my hands and drew long breaths, as if to deliver myself from
the thoughts which overwhelmed me. Mrs. Hanson's womanly nature divined
my feelings, and she left me to myself, but after a while Daisy drew an
Ottoman near, and seating herself on it put her little hands in mine and
whispered:

"I think you're awful pretty. Don't you?"