wondering surprise she saw
that it was no other than her cousin Georgie Gray.

CHAPTER IX.

PERPLEXED.

CANDACE paused for a second, surprised and hesitating; then she walked
on again. Georgie had not seemed to observe her. The other girl was
doubtless Berry Joy, with whom she was less at ease than with anybody
else. She felt not the least desire to confront her, and a strange man
to boot; besides, Mrs. Joy must not be kept waiting.

"That looks like Berry's village cart," exclaimed Mrs. Joy, as they
drove past a side street where a little vehicle stood drawn up in the
shade under the care of a natty groom. "Was that James and the cart,
Wilkins?"

"Yes, ma'am, I believe it was."

"I wonder where the girls can be," continued Mrs. Joy. "At the
Parishes', most likely, taking afternoon tea. That's a very favorite
place at sunset with all the young people. There is such a wide piazza,
and a splendid view." Having said this, she dismissed the subject from
her mind.

They lingered so long in Thames Street, over various errands, that it
was nearly dinner-time before Candace reached home. Georgie was there
before her; she still had her bonnet on, and was sitting on the piazza
with her mother and Gertrude, giving an account of her afternoon.

"And then we drove down to the Old Point, and called on the Parishes,"
she concluded; "and, mamma, as we came away Miss Gisborne saw us
from her window, and called out that I was to tell you that
Mr.--somebody--Card--Caird--some Englishman, at all events--was coming
to-morrow, and would you please be sure to lunch with her on Wednesday
and meet him?"

"Caird, the artist? yes, I know. Miss Gisborne was expecting him."

Georgie seemed to have finished her narrative. She had not said a word
about Fort Greene.

"Now, Candace, what are your adventures?" demanded Gertrude. "It is
quite exciting, after a dull afternoon on the sofa, to have you all come
in and tell me what you have been about. I watched you drive away with a
face like a frightened kitten."

"You would have seen me looking a great deal more frightened if you had
been with us at Miss Colishaw's," said Candace; and she proceeded to
relate what had happened, in a quiet, demure way which was particularly
funny, throwing in a little unconscious mimicry which made the scene
real to her audience. Miss Colishaw's grim indignation, Mrs. Joy's cool
audacity, her own compunctious helplessness,--all were indicated in
tu