rn. Before she had done, they were in fits of indignant laughter.

"Well, really, I did not think even Mrs. Joy could behave so
outrageously as that," remarked Gertrude.

"It is really too bad," said Mrs. Gray. "Miss Colishaw is one of the
salt of the earth, always working herself to death for anybody who is
sick or in trouble, or poorer than herself. I am afraid her feelings
were really hurt. She is sensitive about her poverty, and has a great
regard for her old family relics. I feared that there might be some
mistake about her wishing to sell her china when Mrs. Joy spoke about
it; but it is a long time since I saw the old lady, and I thought it
possible that something had occurred to make her glad of the money. I am
really shocked at Mrs. Joy."

"If only I could have seen her at the cupboard, with the yeast-pitcher
in her hand, and Miss Colishaw's face!" cried Gertrude, with another
burst of laughter. "Well, after this truly awful interview what did you
do next, Candace?"

"We drove to Coddington's Cove, and then we came back to Washington
Street, and Mrs. Joy told me about the old houses; and then she stopped
the carriage by old Fort Greene, and I went down to the shore to look at
it."

"Did you?" said Georgie with sudden interest; "why--why, Berry and I
were there too. We ran down for a moment."

"I thought I saw you," said Candace, simply.

She was looking straight at Georgie as she spoke, and was surprised to
see her flush suddenly, and then turn as suddenly pale. Her change of
color was so marked that her mother could scarcely have failed to notice
it, had her attention not been for the moment occupied by Frederic, who
just brought out a note which required an answer. Gertrude was looking
another way; only Candace noticed Georgie's unwonted emotion. Nothing
more was said about Fort Greene at the time; but a little later, when
she was in her room smoothing her hair for dinner, Georgie tapped at the
door.

"Cannie," she said, "I'm going to ask you not to say anything more to
anybody about having seen Berry and me on Washington Street to-day."

"Certainly, I won't," replied Candace, making in her surprise one of
those hasty promises which are so often repented of afterward; "but why
not?"

"Oh, well, there are no very important reasons; it's just that I would
rather you wouldn't."

"Very well." But Candace felt vaguely dissatisfied with this
explanation, and a little curious.

She thought of this pr