s, dear. They don't mean anything."

"I was afraid I had said something I oughtn't to," I faltered, on the
verge of tears. "I'm sorry if I did!"

Whereupon I was drawn close to her, and kissed three times to assure me
that I was the "best little girl in the world, and that she wouldn't
give way again."

"But, you see, I had got so nervous because you were gone so long, and
you drove that skittish colt, and I was sure something had happened,"
she explained to her husband, who still stood by her, stroking the back
of her hand, in awkward fondness. He stooped to lay his bearded face
against hers.

"That's like you! Always thinking of other people, and never of
yourself!" he said admiringly.

She thought a great deal of me for the rest of my visit, ordering
Malviny to cut out and make a doll's pelisse for me of a lovely piece of
red silk, saying that she would have done it herself if sewing did not
make her so nervous.

"I haven't darned a sock or hemmed a pocket-handkerchief for Cap'n Gates
in ten years. If he were not the best man on earth, he would have sent
me packing long ago."

She despatched another servant to the garret for some toys her sister's
children had left with her last year, and gave me permission to pull all
the flowers I wanted in the garden. I carried three maimed dolls, a
headless horse, a three-legged cat, and a Britannia tea-set to a
summer-house at the end of a long walk, and made believe that I was
Titania, the Queen of the Fairies, of whom I had read in a tattered copy
of Shakespeare I found in a lumber closet. By and by, Malviny brought
out to me a pretty china plate with four sugar cakes, shaped like ivy
leaves, and a glass of very sweet lemonade. Awhile later, Dovey, a
half-grown girl, appeared with a large saucer of peaches and cream,
plentifully sugared.

"Mistis says you must eat 'em all, for she knows you mus' be mighty
thirsty, and peaches is coolin' for little ladies whar's been sick."

There were still some cake crumbs and a spoonful of peaches left when I
saw Cousin Nancy herself come sailing down the walk.

[Illustration]

Chapter XV

Side-Blades & Water-Melons

My far-away cousin could never have been pretty except to a fond
husband's eyes. I should have liked to think her tolerably good-looking
now, since he loved her so dearly and praised her so enthusiastically,
and she was so much more than good to me. I could not help using and
believing the eyes that sho