Without stopping to analyze these remarks too closely, Hildegarde
said a few more soothing words, and then went straight to the
matter in hand.

"Mrs. Lankton, can you tell us anything about a game the children
have been playing, the game of 'The Highland Gates?' We are very
much interested in it, Miss Merryweather and I,--this is Miss
Merryweather,--and we want to know what it means."

"To be sure, my dear!" cried the Widow Lankton. "'The Highland
Gates to Die.' Dear me, yes! if ever a person could tell you--and
Miss Bellflower, is it? Ah! she looks rugged, now; don't she? and
livin' in the old Shannon house, too. 'T is dretful onhealthy,
they say, the Shannon house; but havin' a rugged start, you see,
you may weather it a consid'able time, dearie, and be a comfort to
them as has you WHILE they has you. My Philena, her cheeks was
just like yours, like two pinies. And where is she now? Ah! I've
seen trouble, Miss Bellwether. Miss Grahame here can tell you of
some of the trouble I've seen, though she don't know not a quarter
part of it."

"Oh yes, Mrs. Lankton," said Hildegarde, with what seemed to
wondering Bell rather a scant measure of sympathy; "Miss
Merryweather shall hear all about it, surely. But will you tell us
now about the game, please? We want to know so very much!"

"To be sure, dearie! to be sure!" acquiesced Mrs. Lankton with
alacrity. "'T is a fine game, and anncient, as you may say. Why,
my grandmother taught me to play 'The Highland Gates' when I was