things to wear. But I
thought it was fine where we were--there in the cottage, I with the
flowers, and Bruce. In those days, yes," the woman sighed, and left them
to silence for a space,--for silent seemed the wind and rain, on the
breaking of her speech.

A rumble from without started her on again.

"Yes, yes! I'm telling! I'll hurry. Then I grow big. Seventeen. My
mother call me her little giantess, her handsome darling, her conceited
fool, all at the same time. I never understood my mother--then.

"But then, one day, it came!"

The woman pressed her fingers against her eyes, as if to shut out the
vision her mind was preparing.

"Everything changed then. Everything was different. No more nights with
stories and books. No more about New York and Phil'delph. Never again.

"I was out in the yard one day, on my knees, with the flowers. It was
Springtime, and I was digging and fixing. And I heard a horse's hoofs on
the road. A runaway, I thought at first. I stood up to look, and--" She
faltered, and then choked out, "I stood up to look, and the man came!"
And with the words came a crash that rocked the house.

"Hear that!" the woman almost shrieked. "That's him--that's the man. I
hear him in every storm!...

"He came," she went, more rapidly. "A tall man--fine--dressed in fine
clothes--brown hair--brown eyes! Oh, I often see those brown eyes. I
know what they are like. He came riding along the bye-road. When he
caught sight of my mother he almost fell from his horse. The horse
nearly fell, the man pulled him in so sharp. 'Good God!' the man said.
'Fanny! Is this where you are! Curse you, old girl, is this where you
are!' Funny, how I remember his words. And then he came in.

"And he talked to my mother a long time. Then he looked round and said,
'So this is where you've crawled to!' And he petted Bruce. And then he
came to me, and looked into my face a long time, and said, 'So this is
his girl, eh? Fanny junior, down to the last eyelash! Come here, puss!'
he said. And I made a face at him. And he put his hands to his sides and
laughed and laughed at me. And he turned to my mother and said, 'Fanny,
Fanny, what a queen!' I thought he meant be a queen in the theatre. But
he meant something else. He came to me again, and squeezed me and
pressed his face against mine. And my mother ran and snatched him away.
And I ran behind the house.

"And by-and-by my mother came to find me, and said, 'Oho, my little
giantess! So