illed him in her voice, "we
will not stay here any longer; it is time to go home."

"Full time!" muttered Cynthia Badlam, whose watchful eyes had been upon
them, peering through a screen of yellow leaves, that turned her face
pace as if with deadly passion.

CHAPTER XIV.

FLANK MOVEMENT.

Miss Cynthia Badlam was in the habit of occasionally visiting the Widow
Hopkins. Some said but then people will talk, especially in the country,
where they have not much else to do, except in haying-time. She had
always known the widow, long before Mr. Gridley came there to board, or
any other special event happened in her family. No matter what people
said.

Miss Badlam called to see Mrs. Hopkins, then, and the two had a long talk
together, of which only a portion is on record. Here are such fragments
as have been preserved.

"What would I do about it? Why, I'd put a stop to such carry'n's on,
mighty quick, if I had to tie the girl to the bedpost, and have a bulldog
that world take the seat out of any pair of black pantaloons that come
within forty rod of her,--that's what I'd do about it! He undertook to
be mighty sweet with our Susan one while, but ever sence he's been
talkin' religion with Myrtle Hazard he's let us alone. Do as I did when
he asked our Susan to come to his study,--stick close to your girl and
you 'll put a stop to all this business. He won't make love to two at
once, unless they 're both pretty young, I 'll warrant. Follow her
round, Miss Cynthy, and keep your eyes on her."

"I have watched her like a cat, Mrs. Hopkins, but I can't follow her
everywhere,--she won't stand what Susan Posey 'll stand. There's no use
our talking to her,--we 've done with that at our house. You never know
what that Indian blood of hers will make her do. She's too high-strung
for us to bit and bridle. I don't want to see her name in the paper
again, alongside of that" (She did not finish the sentence.) "I'd rather
have her fished dead out of the river, or find her where she found her
uncle Malachi!"

"You don't think, Miss Cynthy, that the man means to inveigle the girl
with the notion of marryin' her by and by, after poor Mrs. Stoker's dead
and gone?"

"The Lord in heaven forbid!" exclaimed Miss Cynthia, throwing up her
hands. "A child of fifteen years old, if she is a woman to look at!"

"It's too bad,--it's too bad to think of, Miss Cynthy; and there's that
poor woman dyin' by inches, and Miss Bathsheby