ntil the overturns," said Rodney. "It takes a shaking up, I
suppose, sometimes, to set things right. That's what the Shaker
people believe has got to be generally. Do you know, the
Scotch--Aunt Euphrasia is Scotch--have a way of using the word
'upset' to mean 'set up.' I think that is what you make it mean,
Miss Sylvie. I understand the philosophy of it now. I got my first
illustration when I tipped you out there at the baker's door."
"You tipped me out into one of the nicest places I ever was in. I've
no doubt it was a piece of the preparation. I mean to have Ray
Ingraham for my intimate friend."
Rodney Sherrett did not say anything immediately to this. He sat on
the low cricket upon which he had placed himself near the door,
turning his soft felt hat over and over between his hands. He was
not quite ready to perceive as yet, that the baker's daughter was
just the person for Sylvie Argenter's intimate friend; and he had a
dim suspicion, likewise, that there was something in the girl
constitution that prevented the being able to have more than one
intimate friend.
He repeated presently his assurance that Amy and Aunt Euphrasia
would come over to see them, and took himself off, saying that he
knew he must have been horribly in the way all the time.
The next morning, a light covered wagon, driven by Mr. Sherrett's
man, Rodgers, came up the Turn. There was nobody at the red-roofed
house so early, and he set down in the front porch what he took
carefully, one at a time, from the vehicle,--some two dozen lovely
greenhouse plants, newly potted from the choicest and most
flourishing growth of the season.
When Sylvie and Sabina came round from the ten o'clock street car,
they stumbled suddenly upon this beauty that incumbered the
entrance. To a branch of glossy green, luxuriant ivy was tied a
card,--
"RODNEY SHERRETT,
With friendly compliments."
Sylvie really sung at her work to-day, placing and replacing till
she had grouped the whole in her wire frames in the bay window so as
to show every leaf and spray in light and line aright.
"Why, it is prettier than it ever was at the old place; isn't it
Sabina? It's full and perfect; and that was always a great
barrenness of glass. The street can't stare in now. I think mother
will be able to forget that there is even a street at all."
"It's real nobby," said Sabina.
The room was all soft green and gray: green rep chairs and sofa,
gree
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