n the air-currents of heaven; catching such colours, and
drifting as insensibly from one form into another. The evening kept up
the dreamy character of the afternoon, the haze growing duskier as the
light waned; till the tender gleam of a full moon began to supply here
and there the glory of the lost sunlight. It was a colder gleam,
though; and so far, more practical than that flush of living promise
which a little while ago had filled the sky and the world. Diana's
thoughts centred on Evan's letter. Where was it? When should she get
it? Josiah, she knew, had been to the post office that morning, and
brought home nothing! She wished she could go to the post office
herself; she sometimes had done so; but she would not like to take
Evan's letter, either, from the knowing hands of the postmaster. She
might not be able to command her looks perfectly.

"They don't know how to make soda biscuit down yonder," Mrs. Starling
broke out abruptly, just as their drive was near ended.

"Don't they?" said Diana absently.

"All yellow!" said Mrs. Starling disdainfully. "Nobody would ever know
there was any salaratus in _my_ biscuit--or in yours either."

"Except from the lightness, mother."

"The lightness wouldn't tell what made 'em light," said Mrs. Starling
logically. "They had salaratus in their pickles too."

"How could you tell?"

"Tell? As if I couldn't tell! Tell by the colour."

"Ours are green too."

"Not green like that. I would despise to make my pickles green that
way. I'd as soon paint 'em."

"It was very handsome, mother, the supper altogether."

"Hm! It was a little too handsome," said Mrs. Starling, "and that was
what they liked about it. I'd like to know what is the use o' having
great clumsy forks of make-believe silver"--

"O, they were real, mother."

"Well, the more fools if they were. I'd like to know what is the use of
having great clumsy forks of silver, real or make-believe, when you can
have nice, sharp, handy steel ones, and for half or a quarter the
price?"

Diana liked the silver forks, and was silent.

"I could hardly eat my pickles with 'em. I couldn't, if they had been
_mine;_ but Genevieve's cucumbers were spongy."

To Diana's relief, their own door was gained at this moment. She did
not know what her mother's discourse might end in, and was glad to have
it stopped. Yet the drive had been pretty!

The men had had their supper, which had been left ready for them; and
Josiah's care