her a sitting in order that she might satisfy a long-cherished desire
to paint his portrait. "But what can you make out of my stupid phiz?"
Hugh had said, laughing.

"I can make Fitz Hugh Warrington out of it; fair and golden, Saxon and
strong; ruddy and stalwart; lithe and long. Now sit still, Hugh, and I
will do my best. If you had black eyes I would not paint you; black
eyes are _snaky_; that's the reason I don't like Gideon Fish."

"But he likes you, Queen Bess."

"No, he only likes Aunt Faith's cake. If he had to choose between me
and pie, I am afraid I should not have a chance. As for jelly, he
fairly gloats over it. Do you know, Hugh, I shall feel _so_ sorry for
his wife when he marries; how tired she will be of him!"

"Oh, no, she won't," said Hugh; "she will think he is perfect, and
cook for him all her life without ever once finding out what a humbug
he is."

"Well, perhaps it is better so. Deception is sometimes a blessing,"
said Bessie. At this point a singular noise was heard outside the
door; then another, and still another.

"What can that be?" said Hugh, opening the door; "Gem, what are you
doing?"

"Oh, Hugh, don't make any noise," said Gem, in a whisper.

"_I_ am not making any noise. It is you with your shovels. What are