r at the door, --
"where _have_ you been! Here's Mis' Haye been cryin' and the
tea-kettle singing an hour and a half, if it isn't two hours."

"Has Anderese come home?"

"Yes, and supper's ready, and 'taint bad, for Mis' Landholm
learned me how to do fresh mutton and cream; and it's all
ready. You look as if you wanted it, Miss 'Lizabeth. My! --"

"There are some eggs and chickens down in the boat, Clam"

"In what boat, Miss 'Lizabeth?"

"In mine -- down at the rocks."

"Who fetched 'em?"

"I did, from Mr. Underhill's. You may bring them up to the
house."

Leaving her handmaid in an excess of astonishment unusual with
her, Elizabeth walked into her guest's room, where the table
was laid. Rose sat yet by the window, her head in her
handkerchief on the window-sill. Elizabeth went up to her.

"Rose --"

"What?" said Rose without moving.

"Rose -- look up at me --"

The pretty face was lifted at her bidding, but it was sullen,
and the response was a sullen "Well --"

"I am very sorry I spoke to you so -- I was very wrong. I am
very sorry. Forgive me and forget it -- will you?"

"It was very unkind!" -- said Rose, her head going down again
in fresh tears.

"It was very unkind and unhandsome. What can I say more, but
that I am sorry? Won't you forget it?"

"Of course," said Rose wiping her eyes, -- "I don't want to
remember it if you want to forget it. I dare say I was foolish
--"

"Then come to supper," said Elizabeth. "Here's the tea -- I'm
very hungry."

CHAPTER XVI.

And Phant'sie, I tell you, has dreams that have wings,
And dreams that have honey, and dreams that have stings,
Dreams of the maker, and dreams of the teller,
Dreams of the kitchen, and dreams of the cellar.
BEN JONSON.

A few days more passed; days of sameness in the house, while
Autumn's beautiful work was going on without, and the woods
were changing from day to day with added glories. It seemed as
if the sun had broken one or two of his beams across the
hills, and left fragments of coloured splendour all over. The
elm trees reared heads of straw-colour among their forest
brethren; the maples shewed yellow and red and flame-colour;
the birches were in bright orange. Sad purple ashes stood the
moderators of the Assembly; and hickories of gold made sunny
slopes down the mountain sides. All softened together in the
distance to a mellow, ruddy, glowing hue over the whole wood
country.

The two cousins sat by the two win