h, you don't say so," exclaimed the old lady, all anxiety at once.
"An' why didn't you tell me before? Now maybe you've got a touch o'
the sun?"

"Have you been faint and giddy?" asked Sarah, fixing her quiet eyes
upon the girl's face.

"No, I don't think so. I've got a headache--nothing more."

"Ah; cold bath and lemon soda," observed her mother practically.

"Tea, and be left alone," suggested Sarah.

"'Nature designs all human ills, but in the making Suggests the
cure which best is for the taking.'"

Her steady old eyes seemed able to penetrate mere outward signs.

"Quite right, 'Aunt' Sarah," said Alice decidedly. "Leave the nostrums
and quackeries alone. Prue will be all right after a nice cup of tea.
Now, mother Hephzy, one of your best for the invalid, and, please,
I'll have some more ham."

"That you shall, you flighty harum-scarum. And to think o' the likes
o' you dictating to me about nostrums and physickings," replied the
farm-wife, with a comfortable laugh. "I'll soon be having Mary
teaching me to toss a buckwheat 'slap-jack.' Now see an' cut from the
sides o' that ham where the curin's primest. I do allow as the hams
didn't cure just so, last winter. Folks at my board must have of the
best."

"I never knew any one to get anything else here," laughed Alice. Then
she turned her head sharply and sat listening.

Mrs. Malling looked over towards the window. Prudence silently sipped
her tea, keeping her eyes lowered as much as possible. She knew that,
in spite of their talk, these kindly people were worried about her,
and she tried hard to relieve their anxiety.

"Some one for us," said Alice, as the sound of horse's hoofs came in
through the open window.

"Some one from Lakeville, I expect," said Mrs. Malling, making a
guess.

"That's George Iredale's horse," said Sarah, who had detected the
sound of a pacer's gait.

Prudence looked up in a startled, frightened way. Sarah was looking
directly at her. She made no further comment aloud, but contented
herself with a quiet mental note.

"Something wrong," she thought; "and it's to do with him. Poor child,
poor child. Maybe she's fretting herself because----"

Her reflections were abruptly broken off as the sound of a man's voice
hailing at the front door penetrated to the parlour.

"Any one in?" cried the voice; and instantly Alice sprang to her
feet.

"It's Robb!" she exclaimed. There was a clatter as her chair fell back
behind her; she