A
thrush had built its nest in the honeysuckle over the porch window, and
there was a faint sweet twittering sound heard there now, mingled with
the perfume of the roses and jasmine. The room inside was all white, but
daintily relieved here and there with touches of pale blue, in the shape
of bows and drapery. The room was small, but the whole effect was light,
cool, pure. The pretty bed looked like a nest, and the room, with its
quaint and lovely window, somewhat resembled a bower.

Frances looked round it with pride, gave one or two finishing touches to
the flowers which stood in pale-blue vases on the dressing-table, then
turned away with a smile on her lips. There was another room just
beyond, known in the house as the guest-chamber proper. It was much more
stately and cold, and was furnished with very old dark mahogany; but it,
too, had a lovely view over the peaceful homestead, and Frances's eyes
brightened as she reflected how she and Ellen would transform the room
with heaps of flowers, and make it gay and lovely for a much-honored
guest.

She looked at her watch, uttered a hurried exclamation, fled to her own
rather insignificant little apartment, and five minutes later ran
down-stairs, looking very fresh, and girlish, and pretty, in a white
summer dress. She took an umbrella from the stand in the hall, opened it
to protect her head, and walked fast up the winding avenue toward the
lodge gates.

"I hear some wheels, Miss Frances," said Watkins's old wife, hobbling
out of the house. "Eh, but it is a hot day; we'll have thunder afore
night, I guess. Eh, Miss Frances, but you do look well, surely."

"I feel it," said Frances, with a very bright smile. "Ah, there's my
little cousin--poor child! how hot she must be. Well, Fluff, so here you
are, back with your old Fanny again!"

There was a cry--half of rapture, half of pain--from a very small person
in the lumbering old trap. The horse was drawn up with a jerk, and a
girl, with very little of the woman about her, for she was still all
curls, and curves, and child-like roundness, sprung lightly out of the
trap, and put her arms round Frances's neck.

"Oh, Fan, I am glad to see you again! Here I am back just the same as
ever; I haven't grown a bit, and I'm as much a child as ever. How is
your father? I was always so fond of him. Is he as faddy as of old?
That's right; my mission in life is to knock fads out of people. Frances
dear, why do you look at me in tha