Dwight. At least, she is too much of a lady to slander her friends
behind their backs, even if she is only a carpenter's daughter."

"Don't be so crushing, Florence. I only wanted to know what was
the reason you were with her so much," answered Katharine, trying
to pass off the matter lightly, although she was privately
resolving to cultivate the acquaintance of this girl, of whom her
friends were so fond.

One bright day in early October, the V had walked up from school
together as far as Molly's, where they settled themselves on the
piazza to talk over the doings of the day. Katharine and Jessie
had joined them, and they sat there chatting till the clock struck
five. At the sound, Polly sprang up.

"Oh, dear! I ought to have gone home long ago," she said
regretfully. "Is anybody else coming?"

"I'm going to stay a little longer," answered Jean. "Wait just a
few minutes, Poll."

"I can't, Jean; mamma will be expecting me." And Polly picked up
her hat and started for home, followed by Alan who escorted her to
the gate.

She was surprised, when she entered the house, to find the lower
rooms deserted and in some confusion. Her astonishment was
increased when, on going up-stairs, she saw her mother with her
bonnet on, busy in packing her small satchel. Mrs. Adams's red
eyes and white face told her daughter that something was amiss.