Fleda's tears came hot again as she went up the walk; she held
her head down to hide them, and went round the back way.


CHAPTER II.


"Now the melancholy god protect thee: and the tailor make thy
doublet of changeable taffeta, for thy mind is a very opal."
TWELFTH NIGHT.


"Well, what did you come home for?" was Barby's salutation;
"here's company been waiting for you till they're tired, and I
am sure I be."

"Company!" said Fleda.

"Yes, and it's ungrateful in you to say so," said Barby; "for
she's been in a wonderful hurry to see you, or to get
somethin' to eat — I don't know which; a little o' both, I
hope in charity."

"Why didn't you give her something to eat? Who is it?"

"I don't know who it is! It's one of your highfliers, that's
all I can make out. She 'a'n't a hat a bit better than a man's
beaver; one 'ud think she had stole her little brother's for a
spree, if the rest of her was like common folks; but she's got
a tail to her dress as long as from here to Queechy Run, and