nk it is that you
shouldn't mind being lame. That you should let your soul grow so big you
would forget your poor legs, and other folks would forget them too."

Nothing more was said, and even Amy felt that they had had enough of
"sermons" for one day, and it was a relief to the thoughtfulness upon
them all to reach Bareacre, and to see Cleena, with Fayette beside her,
waiting to welcome them.

"Hal, isn't it odd? The poorer we are the more folks we have. Fayette
means to live there with us, and so, it seems, do all the little
Joneses. My! Who is that?"

"A scarecrow, I should think. Nobody I ever saw before."

Seated upon a rocking-chair which she had herself brought out from the
house was a young girl of about Amy's age, though from her dress and
manner she might have been at least several years older. Amy caught a
vision of something very gay and brilliant, rivalling the forests upon
the hillsides in variety of tint, but never in their harmony.

"Whew! Whoever she is she makes my eyes ache; and what a picture for
father to see, the first at his new threshold!"

Yet apparently without noticing anything unpleasing, Mr. Kaye assisted
his wife from the carryall and walked with her to where the stranger
still sat and rocked. She did not rise at their approach, and returned
the courteous greeting of the master and mistress of the house with the
barest of nods.

"How do? I come to pay a call."

But not upon them. For the first time in their lives the artist and his
lovely wife were relegated by this self-possessed young person to the
land of "old folks," in whom she felt no interest.

With a twinkle in his eye that met an answering one in hers, the
gentleman handed Mrs. Kaye on toward the eager Cleena, and turned to his
children:--

"My dears, a visitor for you, I think."

So Amy and Hallam rode up and dismounted, while the former went forward
slowly, smiling a welcome, yet feeling oddly disconcerted before this
unknown girl.

"I'm Gwendolyn Jones. Ma said it wasn't no more 'n friendly to come an'
call. I don't have no time 'cept Sunday an' Saturday-half. Then I
generally go to Wallburg to do my shopping. It's such a trouble,
shopping is, ain't it?"

"I don't know. I never did any," answered Amy, simply. She was amused
by Gwendolyn, but regretful that the visit had been timed just then. She
had counted upon showing the interior of the new home to her parents,
with all the best features accented, and now she