raise his right haunch spasmodically when moving. The effect was
rhythmic but grotesque, much as if Ben thought he was turkey-
trotting. Otherwise, too, Ben was unlovely. His feet were by no
means dainty, his coat was a dirty looking dappled-white, and his
mane so attenuated it needed a toupee. As if appreciating his
defects, Ben wore an apologetic, almost timid, expression of
countenance, which greatly belied his true stubbornness of
character.

Not yet aware of the turn-out they must put up with, about two
o'clock that afternoon Missy set out for Tess's house. She departed
unobtrusively by the back door and side gate. The reason for this
almost surreptitious leave-taking was in the package she carried
under her arm. It held her mother's best black silk skirt, which
boasted a "sweep"; a white waist of Aunt Nettie's; a piece of
Chantilly lace which had once been draped on mother's skirt but was
destined, to-day, to become a "mantilla"; and a magnificent "willow
plume" snipped from Aunt Nettie's Sunday hat. This plume, when
tacked to Missy's broad leghorn, was intended to be figuratively as
well as literally the crowning feature of her costume.

Tess, too, had made the most of her mother's absence at the
Missionary Society. Unfortunately Mrs. O'Neill had worn her black
silk skirt, but her blue dimity likewise boasted a "sweep." A
bouquet of artificial poppies (plucked from a hat of "the mater's")
added a touch of colour to Tess's corsage. And she, also, had
acquired a "willow plume."

Of course it was Tess who had thought to provide burnt matches and
an extra poppy--artificial. The purpose of the former was to give a