ask father
if I might go; but I couldn't bear to have her think I wanted Ned for a
beau; so I answered, 'I don't know yet whether I can go or not; I'll see
what our folks say.'

'Well, Dimpey, I'll come over to your house to-morrow night; I guess
you'll go; good evening,' and away he galloped.

'_Guess_ you'll go, indeed!' said Polly Jane, as soon as he was out of
hearing. 'I guess she won't go with _you_, Mr. Impudence! You're not
going to make a fool of our Dimpey, and break her neck besides, not if
her father knows it, _I_ can tell you.'

It isn't often that Polly Jane speaks out so spunky, but I expect she
was vexed because he didn't answer her; as for me, I could have cried to
think that things happened so, and I felt almost angry with poor Widow
Burt for being sick, and taking me away from home that evening. It was
awful wicked, but I was well punished for it afterward.

'It's _too_ bad in you to talk so, Polly,' said I, 'as if I was a child
six years old! I wonder _why_ it's impudent in Ned to ask me to ride
with him; you wouldn't say so if it was any one else; but you hate poor
Ned--you know you do,' and here I broke down and really cried; but they
were spiteful tears, after all.

'There, now, Dimpey,' said Polly Jane--she was over _her_ pet in a
minute--'don't feel bad; I didn't mean to be cross to Ned; but he has
such a bold way of talking, as if he thought nobody could refuse _him_,
that he always makes me angry, and I can't help it. But you _shall_ go
to the picnic, dear, whether he takes you or not; there will be plenty
glad to ask you; so kiss me, Dimpey, and I won't tease you again.'

I let her kiss me, and then walked on sullen enough till we came to Mrs.
Burt's. The house was a forlorn old place, with only one room and a
bedroom, and a garret next the roof, where Jim slept. The door of the
living room opened out into a shed, where Mrs. Burt did her work in
summer time. The trees grew close up to the shed, and the well was under
it; and as we came up, who should I see but Race Miller, drawing a
bucket of water to fill the teakettle, while Jim kindled a fire in the
stove. There _did_ seem to be no end of vexations that day, and I wished
myself a hundred miles off.

'Why, Polly Jane! is that you? I didn't think of seeing you down here
to-night--and Dimpey, too! We heard that Mrs. Burt was very sick, and
mother had tea early, and we came over to see how the poor soul was.'

'Is your mother in the