t live up on the
mounting, Cousin Anice, 'mongst the deer, an' b'ar, an' fox, like me,"
she had said jestingly, "or ye'd want ter view all the town ye kin."
And once outside the shabby little palings, she returned no more for
hours.

Along the scorching streets she wandered, debating within herself
anxious questions which, she felt, affected all her future, and
unfitting herself still further to reach that just and wise conclusion
she desired to compass. She could not altogether abstract her mind,
despite the interests which she had at stake. She noticed that her
unaccustomed feet stumbled over the flag-stones of the pavement--"Fit
fur nothin' but followin' the plough!" she muttered in irritation. She
hesitated at the door of a store, then sidled sheepishly in, tearing
her dress on a nail in a barrel set well in the corner and out of the
way.

But while looking over the pile of goods which she had neither the
wish nor the money to purchase, she could have sunk with shame with
the sudden thought that perhaps it was not the vogue in Colbury to
keep a clerk actively afoot to while away the idle time of a
desperately idle woman. She could not at once decide how she might
best extricate herself, and for considerable time the empty show of an
impending purchase went on.

"I'll--I'll kem an' see 'bout'n it ter-morrer," she faltered at last.
"Much obleeged."

"No trouble to show goods," said the martyr of the counter, politely.
In truth he had in the course of his career shown them as futilely to
women who were much older and far, far uglier, and contemplating
purchase as remotely.

She went out scarlet, slow, tremulous, and walking close into the wall
like an apprehensive cat, looking now and again over her shoulder. She
wondered if he laughed when he was alone.

Her shadow was long now as it preceded her down the street, lank,
awkward, clumsy. She took note of the late hour which it intimated,
and followed the extravagant, lurching caricature of herself to her
cousin's house, a little unpainted, humble building set far back in
the yard, against the good time coming when a more ornate structure
should be prefixed. The good time seemed still a long way off. Her
cousin's ironing-board was on the porch, and presently a lean,
elderly, active woman whisked out, her flat-iron in her hand.

"Cousin Anice," called Theodosia from the gate, "how's the 'lection
turned out?"

Cousin Anice paused to put her finger in her mouth;