ne," I said,
descending.

"'Twas a man that supposed it, then," retorted Aunt Philippa,
beckoning to her hired boy. "Here, Jerry, put Prince away. Jerry's a
good sort of boy," she confided to me as we went into the house. "I
had Jim Spencer last summer and the only good thing about _him_ was
his appetite. I put up with him till harvest was in, and then one day
my patience give out. He upsot a churnful of cream in the back
yard--and was just as cool as a cowcumber over it--laughed and said it
was good for the land. I told him I wasn't in the habit of fertilizing
my back yard with cream. But that's the men for you. Come in. I'll
have tea ready in no time. I sot the table before I left. There's
lemon pie. Mrs. John Cantwell sent it over. I never make lemon pie
myself. Ten years ago I took the prize for lemon pies at the county
fair, and I've never made any since for fear I'd lose my reputation
for them."

* * * * *

The first month of my stay passed not unpleasantly. The summer weather
was delightful, and the sea air was certainly splendid. Aunt
Philippa's little farm ran right down to the shore, and I spent much
of my time there. There were also several families of cousins to be
visited in the farmhouses that dotted the pretty, seaward-sloping
valley, and they came back to see me at "Philippa's Farm." I picked
spruce gum and berries and ferns, and Aunt Philippa taught me to make
butter. It was all very idyllic--or would have been if Mark had
written. But Mark did not write. I supposed he must be very angry
because I had run off to Prince Edward Island without so much as a
note of goodbye. But I had been so sure he would understand!

Aunt Philippa never made any further reference to the reason Father
had sent me to her, but she allowed no day to pass without holding up
to me some horrible example of matrimonial infelicity. The number of
unhappy wives who walked or drove past "Philippa's Farm" every
afternoon, as we sat on the verandah, was truly pitiable.

We always sat on the verandah in the afternoon, when we were not
visiting or being visited. I made a pretence of fancy work, and Aunt
Philippa spun diligently on a little old-fashioned spinning-wheel that
had been her grandmother's. She always sat before the wood stand which
held her flowers, and the gorgeous blots of geranium blossom and big
green leaves furnished a pretty background. She always wore her
shapeless but clean print wr