nd messages between
the cottage and the house on the hill, all day. Miss Kennedy
was constantly finding out something more that she wanted for
the evening, and Dingee went back and forth with notes to Mrs.
Bywank and waterproof-covered baskets in return, till Gotham
at least lost patience.

'More duds for Miss 'Azel!' he said in displeasure, as Dingee
appeared just at nightfall with a final basket. 'It's clean
ridikerlous! One dress at a time ought to content any young
lady.'

'Now I jes' tell you what, Mas' Gotham,' said Dingee, 'you
ain't up to de situation. Pears like de whole countryside
after my young mistis!'

Gotham gave a grunt in unsuccessful imitation of his master's
growl.

'H'after'er,' he said. 'Looks more as if she was h'after them--
wanting fourteen dresses at once.'

Dingee shewed his teeth from ear to ear.

'You bery wise man, Mas' Gotham!' he said. ' 'Spect now you
can tell a feller all about dese yere.' And Dingee threw off
the white paper which covered what he carried this time, and
displayed to Gotham's astonished eyes a basket full of
bouquets.

' 'Spect now dese yere growed in Missee Hazel's own
greenhouse,' he said, tauntingly, 'seein' she ain't got none!
Shouldn't wonder if dey started up spontanous like, arter de
shower. How you tink, Mas' Gotham, hey?'

But Gotham was virtuously indignant.

'Miss 'Azel'll get her head worse turned than it h'is now,' he
said.

'Heads does turn, fact,' said Dingee, shaking his own. 'Jes'
you watch 'em when de horseback gen'lemen dey goes by, Mas'
Gotham, and you'll see de heads turn!'

But Gotham had watched enough already to know there was no
mistake about that.

'Well,' he said, 'since h'it's 'ere, h'it's 'ere, and 'll 'ave
to stay, no doubt. I'll take it to the library.'

'Cotch him first!' said Dingee, moving a little out of reach.
'Where Missee Hazel?'

'Prinking 'erself h'up,' answered Gotham severely.

'Gotham telling fibs!' said the young lady in question, coming
up behind him with her light tread. 'Perhaps he had better
take _himself_ to the library, and report to Mr. Falkirk. What
do you want of me, Dingee? I thought everything was here.'

Dingee had adroitly covered his basket again, but now he drew
near and displayed his treasure, adding messages of a somewhat
adorned nature, while Wych Hazel read the cards attached to
the bouquets. Gotham, standing a little off, looked on
indignant as before, and frowned at the flowers and