uncle come home yet?"

"Yes, long ago. He called and looked all around for you to unharness the
horse, and he wanted you to go an errand over the river to Gibson's. I
guess he was put out."

"Did he say anything?"

"He asked if you had weeded the beets. And he said that you were the
master boy to dream and moon around he ever saw." And she added, with
a confidential and mischievous smile: "I think you'd better brought a
switch along; it would save time."

Phil had a great respect for his uncle Maitland, but he feared him
almost more than he feared the remote God of Abraham and Isaac. Mr.
Maitland was not only the most prosperous man in all that region, but
the man of the finest appearance, and a bearing that was equity itself.
He was the first selectman of the town, and a deacon in the church, and
however much he prized mercy in the next world he did not intend to have
that quality interfere with justice in this world. Phil knew indeed that
he was a man of God, that fact was impressed upon him at least twice a
day, but he sometimes used to think it must be a severe God to have
that sort of man. And he didn't like the curt way he pronounced the holy
name--he might as well have called Job "job."

Alice was as unlike her father, except in certain race qualities of
integrity and common-sense, as if she were of different blood. She was
the youngest of five maiden sisters, and had arrived at the mature age
of eighteen. Slender in figure, with a grace that was half shyness, soft
brown hair, gray eyes that changed color and could as easily be sad
as merry, a face marked with a moving dimple that every one said was
lovely, retiring in manner and yet not lacking spirit nor a sly wit of
her own. Now and then, yes, very often, out of some paradise, no doubt,
strays into New England conditions of reticence and self-denial such a
sweet spirit, to diffuse a breath of heaven in its atmosphere, and
to wither like a rose ungathered. These are the New England nuns, not
taking any vows, not self-consciously virtuous, apparently untouched by
the vanities of the world. Marriage? It is not in any girl's nature not
to think of that, not to be in a flutter of pleasure or apprehension
at the attentions of the other sex. Who has been able truly to read
the thoughts of a shrinking maiden in the passing days of her youth and
beauty? In this harmonious and unselfish household, each with decided
individual character, no one ever intruded upon t