ummer
breeze blowing the green tassels on the window shades, Marcia went softly
down like some half guilty creature to the piano. She opened it and was
forthwith lost in delight of the sounds her own fingers brought forth.

She had been playing perhaps half an hour when she became conscious of
another presence in the room. She looked up with a start, feeling that
some one had been there for some time, she could not tell just how long.
Peering into the shadowy room lighted only from the window behind her, she
made out a head looking in at the door, the face almost hidden by a
capacious sunbonnet. She was not long in recognizing her visitor of the
day before. It was like a sudden dropping from a lofty mountain height
down into a valley of annoyance to hear Miranda's sharp metallic voice:

"Morning!" she courtesied, coming in as soon as she perceived that she was
seen. "At it again? I ben listening sometime. It's as pretty as Silas
Drew's harmonicker when he comes home evenings behind the cows."

Marcia drew her hands sharply from the keys as if she had been struck.
Somehow Miranda and music were inharmonious. She scarcely knew what to
say. She felt as if her morning were spoiled. But Miranda was too full of
her own errand to notice the clouded face and cool welcome. "Say, you
can't guess how I got over here. I'll tell you. You're going over to the
Spafford house to-night, ain't you? and there's going to be a lot of folks
there. Of course we all know all about it. It's been planned for months.
And my cousin Hannah Heath has an invite. You can't think how fond Miss
Amelia and Miss Hortense are of her. They tried their level best to make
David pay attention to her, but it didn't work. Well, she was talking
about what she'd wear. She's had three new frocks made last week, all
frilled and fancy. You see she don't want to let folks think she is down
in the mouth the least bit about David. She'll likely make up to you, to
your face, a whole lot, and pretend she's the best friend you've got in
the world. But I've just got this to say, don't you be too sure of her
friendship. She's smooth as butter, but she can give you a slap in the
face if you don't serve her purpose. I don't mind telling you for she's
given me many a one," and the pale eyes snapped in unison with the color
of her hair. "Well, you see I heard her talking to Grandma, and she said
she'd give anything to know what you were going to wear to-night."

"How curious!"