sender may
be--there is always a sufficient reason why the original date set by the
buyer has been ignored. In this case the strawberries had been engaged
from a neighbour, and Juliet understood at once that she must not refuse
to take them.

She stood looking at the rows of baskets upon the table, when the boy had
placed them there and gone whistling away. She was in the midst of a
flurry of work. It was Saturday, and she was cooking and baking, putting
together various dishes to be used upon the morrow. Mr. Horatio Marcy had
lately returned from abroad. He and Mrs. Dingley were to spend the coming
Sabbath with Juliet and Anthony--the first occasion on which Juliet's
father should be entertained in the house. It was an event of importance,
and his daughter meant to show him several things concerning her fitness
for her present position.

Rachel Redding was not available upon this Saturday morning. Her mother
had been taken seriously ill the night before, and Rachel had sent word
that she could not leave her. Juliet had not minded much, although it was
a day when Rachel's help would have been especially acceptable. As it was,
she had reached a point where her housewifely marshalling of the day's
work was at a critical stage. A cake had been put into the oven. A large
bowl of soup stock had been brought from a cool retreat to have the smooth
coating of fat removed from its surface. Various other dishes, in process
of construction, awaited the skilled touch of the cook.

"I shall have to do them, I suppose," said Mrs. Robeson to herself,
regarding the strawberries with a disapproving eye. "But _why_ they had to
come to-day----"

She went at the strawberries, wishing she had ordered less. They were fine
berries--on top; by degrees, as the boxes lowered, they became less fine.
It seemed desirable to separate the superior from the inferior and treat
them differently. Only the best would do for the delectable preserve which
was to go into glasses and be served on special occasions; the others
could be made into jam less attractive to the eye if hardly less
acceptable to the palate. Juliet was obliged to put down her berry-boxes
every fifth minute to attend to one or other of the various saucepans and
double-boilers upon the little range. Her cheeks grew flushed, for the day
was hot and the kitchen hotter. It must be admitted that her occasional
glance out over the green fields and the woods beyond was a longing one.

Th