as revolving a
perplexity as to whether big boys were not a great deal nicer than
little boys. Then Stephen came back and Mr. Paulus Beekman, who was
stout and dark, and favored his mother's side of the family. The ladies
were very jolly, teasing one another, telling bits of fun, comparing
work, and exchanging cooking recipes. Miss Gitty asked Margaret about
her mother's family, the Vermilyeas. A Miss Vermilye, sixty or seventy
years ago, had married a Conklin and come over to Closter. She seemed to
have all her family genealogy at her tongue's end, and knew all the
relations to the third and fourth generation. But she had a rather sweet
face with fine wrinkles and blue veins, and wore her hair in long
ringlets at the sides, fastened with shell combs that had been her
mother's, and were very dear to her. She wore a light changeable silk,
and it still had big sleeves, such as we are wearing to-day. But they
had mostly gone out. And the elder ladies were combing their hair down
over their ears. There were no crimping-pins, so they had to braid it up
at night in "tails" to make it wave, unless one had curly hair. Most of
the young girls brushed it straight above their ears for ordinary wear,
and braided or twisted it in a great coil at the back, though it was
often elaborately dressed for parties.

Aunt Gitty was netting a shawl out of white zephyr. It was tied in the
same manner that one makes fish-nets, and you used a little shuttle on
which your thread was wound. It was very light and fleecy. Aunt Gitty
had made one of silk for a cousin who was going abroad, and it had been
very much admired. The little girl was greatly interested in this, and
ventured on an attempt at friendliness.

Dolly took them away presently to show them the flower-beds. Mr. Beekman
had ten acres of ground. There were vegetables, corn and potato fields
and a pasture lot, beside the great lawn and flower-garden. Old Mr.
Beekman was out there. He was past seventy now, hale and hearty to be
sure, with a round, wrinkled face, and thick white hair, and he was
passionately fond of his grandchildren. He had not married until he was
forty and his wife was much younger.

There were long walks of dahlias of every color and kind. They were a
favorite autumn flower. A great round bed of "Robin-run-away," bergamot,
that scented the air and attracted the humming-birds. All manner of
old-fashioned flowers that are coming around again, and you could see
where