"There," thought Rebecca, "I have it! She's been reading those old
letters and looking at that ivory picture so long she thinks that she's
the girl in the picture herself, now. Yes, that's it. Mary Burton was
the name!"

When Phoebe was new-dressed, her sister could not but acknowledge
inwardly that the queer clothes were mightily becoming. She appeared the
beau ideal of a merry, light-hearted, healthy girl from the country.

On one point, however, Rebecca could not refrain from expostulating.

"Look a-here, Phoebe," she said, in a scandalized voice, as she rose
and faced her sister, "ain't you goin' to put on somethin' over your
chest? That ain't decent the way you've got yerself fixed now!"

"Nonsense!" cried Phoebe, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"Wouldst have me cover my breast like a married woman! Look to thine own
attire. Come, where hast put it?"

Rebecca put her hands on her hips and looked into her sister's face with
a stern determination.

"Ef you think I'm agoin' to put on play-actor clothes an' go round
lookin' indecent, Phoebe Wise, why, you're mistaken--'cause I
ain't--so there!"

"Nay, nurse!" Phoebe exclaimed, earnestly. "'Tis the costume thou art
wearing now that is mummer's weeds. Come, sweet--come! They'll not
yield thee admittance below else."

She concluded with a warning inflection, and shook her finger
affectionately at her sister.

Rebecca opened her mouth several times and closed it again in despair
ere she could find a reply. At length she seated herself slowly, folded
her arms, and said:

"They can do jest whatever they please downstairs, Phoebe. As fer me,
I'd sooner be seen in my nightgown than in the flighty, flitter-scatter
duds the women 'round here wear. Not but you look good enough in 'em, if
you'd cover your chest, but play-actin' is meant for young folks--not
fer old maids like me."

"Nay--but----"

"What the lands sakes d'ye holler neigh all the time fer? I'm not agoin'
to neigh, an' you might's well make up your mind to't."

Phoebe bit her lips and then, after a moment's hesitation, turned to
the door.

"Well, well! E'en have it thy way!" she said.

Followed by Rebecca, the younger woman descended the stairs. As she
reached the entrance hall, she stopped short at sight of a tall, heavy
man standing beside the table across the room with his face buried in a
great stone mug.

He had dropped his flat round hat upon the table, and his long hair fell
in