we are not in the secret. Kate fell in love with the girl."

"Did you, Kate? When a woman falls in love with another woman the
phenomenon is so uncommon that a certain amount of interest must be
roused. Describe the object of your adoration, Kitty."

"Her name," responded Kate, "is Beatrice Meadowsweet. I won't say any
more about her. If ever you meet her, which isn't likely, you can judge
for yourself of her merits."

"Kitty is rather cross about Beatrice," said Mabel; then she continued,
"Loftie, what do you think? Mother has cut all the Northbury folk."

"Mabel, you talk very wild nonsense."

It was Kate who spoke. She rose from the breakfast-table with an annoyed
expression.

"Wild or not--it is true," replied Mabel. "Mother has cut the Northbury
people, cut them dead. They came to see us, they came in troops. Such
funny folk! The first lot were let in. Mother was like a poker. She
astonished her visitors, and the whole scene was so queer and
uncomfortable, although mother was freezingly _polite_, that Kate
and I got out of the room. The next day more people came--and more, and
more every day, but Clara had her orders, and we weren't 'at home.'
Kitty and I used to watch the poor Northburians from behind the
summer-house. One day Kitty laughed. It was awful, and I am sure they
heard.

"Another day a dreadful little woman with rolling eyes said she would
leave a tract on _Lying_ in the avenue--I wish she had. But I
suppose she thought better of it.

"Then there came a bazaar, a great bazaar, and the Rector invited us,
and said all the Northburians would be there. What do you think mother
did? She returned their calls on that day. She knew they'd be out, and
they were. Wasn't that a dead cut, Loftie?"

"Rather," responded Loftus.

He rose slowly, looked deliberately at Kate, and then closed his lips.

"Mother is away, so we won't discuss her," said Kate. "Run and pack the
picnic basket, Mabel, and then we'll be off."

The picturesque little town of Northbury was built on the slope of a
hill. This hill gently descended to the sea. Nowhere was there to be
found a more charming, landlocked harbor than at Northbury. It was a
famous harbor for boating. Even at low tide people could get on the
water, and in the summer time this gay sheet of dark blue sparkling
waves had many small yachts, fishing smacks, and row-boats of all sizes
and descriptions skimming about on its surface. In the spring a large
fishing tr