ite and she really _did_ like Mr. Beekman,
but as for staying--her heart was up in her throat.

Dolly picked up Katschina and carried her in triumph. Two white paws lay
over Dolly's shoulder.

There was a table with a shining copper tea-kettle, a pewter tankard of
home-brewed ale, bread and butter, cold chicken and ham, a great dish of
curd cheese, pound cake, soft and yellow, fruit cake, a heaping dish of
doughnuts and various cookies and seed cakes. Scipio, a young colored
lad, passed the eatables. Young Mrs. Beekman poured the tea. The mother
sat near her. She was short and fat and wore her hair in a high
Pompadour roll, and she laughed a good deal, showing her fine white
teeth of which she was very proud.

Katschina sat in her master's lap, and the little girl was beside him.
The boys were given their hands full and sent away. It was a very pretty
picture and the little girl felt as if she was reading an entertaining
story. One of the Gessler cousins had been knitting lace, double
oak-leaf with a heading of insertion. It looked marvellous to the little
girl. She said she was making it to trim a visite. This was a Frenchy
sort of garment lately come into vogue, though the little girl did not
know what it was, and was too well trained to ask questions. But the
lace might be the desire of one's heart.

They sipped their tea or raspberry shrub, or enjoyed a glass of ale.
They were all very merry. The little girl wondered how Dolly dared to be
so saucy with Stephen when she only knew him such a little. Mrs. Beekman
could hardly accept the fact that they would not stay to supper, and
said they must come soon and spend the day, and have Stephen drive up
for them, and that she hoped soon to see Mrs. Underhill. "It is quite
delightful and we are all well satisfied," she added, nodding rather
mysteriously.

Dolly put on the little girl's hat and kissed her, giving her a
breathless squeeze. Miss Gitty kissed her as well and told her she was a
"very pretty behaved child." The buggy came round and Stephen put them
in amid a chorus of good-bys.

"The little one looks delicate," commented the younger Mrs. Beekman when
they had driven away. "I'm afraid she doesn't run and play enough. But
she's beautifully behaved. And what a fancy father took to her!"

"Miss Underhill doesn't seem like a real country girl," said another.

"The Underhills are a good family all through, English descent from some
Lord Underhill. They were st