e a little face
at the cleric, who responded by rumpling her hair. "Then the Housewives'
League mother organized has crocheted enough perfectly hideous lace for
all the sheets and things. Your bed-linen is going to bristle with it
like a porcupine."

"It's very good of them," said Jemima, reprovingly. "As for the
livestock, James, we can eat it.--Look at this barrel of potatoes, and
these home-cured hams, and all the pickle. Stop laughing at my friends!"

Thorpe murmured meek apologies.

The evening before the wedding, Big Liza came striding into the hall
where the family sat assembled, bearing aloft a large round object
wrapped in newspaper.

"Huh! Look at what dat 'ooman Mahaly had the owdaciosity to bring fo' a
bridal gif'!" she snorted, swelling with indignation. "Reck'n she 'lows
dey ain't nary a cook at Sto'm good enough to make no bride-cake. Allus
was a biggity, uppity piece, dat Mahaly!"

She placed it on a table, and waddled scornfully out again.

The professor undid the wrappings in a somewhat gingerly manner. There
was an element of the unexpected about his wedding-gifts which intrigued
curiosity. This time he gave a rather startled exclamation, blushed and
backed away.

It was a mammoth white cake, which bore, besides certain garlands and
other decorations of a distinctly Cubist tendency, the legend done in
silver candies: FOR THE BABY.

"D-dear me!" murmured the professor, hastily shrouding it once more in
its wrappings.

"That means Jemima," smiled Kate. "To Mahaly, Jemmy has always been 'The
Baby.' She nursed her, you know."

"Nursed me--that mulatto woman who lives in the white people's
neighborhood? I never knew that," said the girl. "How strange! She never
comes here with the other old servants, even at Christmas time, and I've
never gone to see her. Why was I not told?"

Kate did not answer.

"Did you have to dismiss her, Mother--was it that? Was she dishonest, or
something of the sort?"

"No," said Kate, with an odd reluctance. "She was a very good servant in
every way, and perfectly devoted to you and to little Katharine."

Jemima looked at her in surprise. It was very unlike the Madam to lose
touch with any creature, human or otherwise, who had once faithfully
served her. She waited for an explanation.

"Mahaly has never come to Storm," said Kate in a low voice, "since your
father's death. She was his servant for many years before I came here."

"Oh!" said Jemima. The negress