perfectly straight," she said. "What did he come
about? and he stayed for some time."

The slow blood rose into the old squire's face.

"Business," he said; "a little private matter for my own ear. I like
Spens; he is a capital fellow, a thorough man of business, with no
humbug about him. By the way, Frances, he does not approve of our
selling the fruit, and he thinks we ought to make more of the ribbon
border. He says we have only got the common yellow calceolarias--he does
not see a single one of the choicer kinds."

"Indeed!" said Frances. She could not help a little icy tone coming into
her voice. "Fluff, won't you have some cream with your strawberries?--I
did not know, father, that Mr. Spens had anything to say of our garden."

"Only an opinion, my dear, and kindly meant. Now, Fluff"--the squire
turned indulgently to his little favorite--"do you think Frances ought
to take unjust prejudices?"

"But she doesn't," said Fluff. "She judges by instinct, and so do I.
Instinct told her to dislike Mr. Spens' back as he sat in his gig, and
so do I dislike it. I hate those round fat backs and short necks like
his, and I hate of all things that little self-satisfied air."

"Oh, you may hate in that kind of way if you like," said the squire.
"Hatred from a little midget like you is very different from Frances's
sober prejudice. Besides, she knows Mr. Spens; he has been our excellent
man of business for years. But come, Fluff, I am not going to talk over
weighty matters with you. Have you brought your guitar? If so, we'll go
into the south parlor and have some music."

CHAPTER V.

"FRANCES, YOU ARE CHANGED!"

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight--good--nine, ten,
eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen--excellent! Oh, how out of breath I
am, and how hot it is! Is that you, Frances? See, I've been skipping
just before the south parlor window to amuse the squire for the last
hour. He has gone to sleep now, so I can stop. Where are you going? How
nice you look! Gray suits you. Oh, Frances, what extravagance! You have
retrimmed that pretty shady hat! But it does look well. Now where are
you off to?"

"I thought I would walk up the road a little way," said Frances. Her
manner was not quite so calm and assured as usual. "Our old friend
Philip Arnold is coming to-night, you know, and I thought I would like
to meet him."

"May I come with you? I know I'm in a mess, but what matter? He's the
man about whom a