of them. The hostler, who
was rubbing down his horses in the door of the barn, came out
wide-mouthed, and exclaimed under his breath,--

"Gosh! who's she?" with an emphasis on that feminine, personal pronoun
which was all the bitterer slur on the rest of womankind in that
neighborhood, that he was so unconscious of the reflection it conveyed.
The cook and the stable-boy also came running to the kitchen door, on
hearing the hostler's exclamation; and they, too, stood gazing at the
unconscious Mercy, and each, in their own way, paying tribute to her
appearance.

"That's the gal thet comed last night with her mother. Darned sight
better-lookin' by daylight than she wuz then!" said the stable-boy.

"Hm! boys an' men, ye 're all alike,--all for looks," said the cook, who
was a lean and ill-favored spinster, at least fifty years old. "The gal
isn't any thin' so amazin' for good looks, 's I can see; but she's got
mighty sarchin' eyes in her head. I wonder if she's a lookin' for somebody
they're expectin'."

"Steve White he was with 'em down to the depot," replied the stable-boy.
"Seth sed he handed on 'em into the kerridge, 's if they were regular
topknots, sure enough."

"Hm! Seth Quin 's a fool, 'n' always wuz," replied the cook, with a
seemingly uncalled-for acerbity of tone. "I've allus observed that them
that hez the most to say about topknots hez the least idea of what
topknots really is. There ain't a touch o' topknot about that ere girl:
she's come o' real humbly people. Anybody with half an eye can see that.
Good gracious! I believe she's goin' to stand still, and let old man
Wheeler run over her. Look out there, look out, gal!" screamed the cook,
and pounded vigorously with her rolling-pin on the side of the door to
rouse Mercy's attention. Mercy turned just in time to confront a stout,
red-faced, old gentleman with a big cane, who was literally on the point
of walking over her. He was so near that, as she turned, he started back
as if she had hit him in the breast.

"God bless my soul, God bless my soul, miss!" he exclaimed, in his
excitement, striking his cane rapidly against the ground. "I beg your
pardon, beg pardon, miss. Bad habit of mine, very bad habit,--walk along
without looking. Walked on a dog the other day; hurt dog; tumbled down
myself, nearly broke my leg. Bad habit, miss,--bad habit; too old to
change, too old to change. Beg pardon, miss."

The old gentleman mumbled these curt phrases in a ser