pt to be silent on its own merits," he said. "My cousin
has learned the usual rudiments; and in addition to those the art of
driving."

"Of _what_? What did you say?" inquired my governess.

"Of driving, ma'am. Daisy is an excellent whip for her years and
strength."

Miss Pinshon turned to Preston's mother. My aunt confirmed and
enlarged the statement, again throwing the blame on my father and
mother. For herself, she always thought it very dangerous for a little
girl like me to go about in the country in a pony-chaise all alone.
Miss Pinshon's eyes could not be said to express anything, but to my
fancy they concealed a good deal. She remarked that the roads were
easy.

"Oh, it was not here," said my aunt; "it was at the North, where the
roads are not like our pine forest. However the roads were not
dangerous there, that I know of; not for anybody but a child. But
horses and carriages are always dangerous."

Miss Pinshon next applied herself to me. What did I know? "beside this
whip accomplishment," as she said. I was tongue-tied. It did not seem
to me that I knew anything. At last I said so. Preston exclaimed. I
looked at him to beg him to be still; and I remember how he smiled at
me.

"You can read, I suppose?" my governess went on.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And write, I suppose?"

"I do not think you would say I know how to write," I answered. "I
cannot do it at all well; and it takes me a long time."

"Come back to the driving, Daisy," said Preston. "That is one thing
you do know. And English history, I will bear witness."

"What have you got there, Preston?" my aunt asked.

"Some horehound drops, mamma."

"You haven't a sore throat?" she asked, eagerly.

"No, ma'am--not just now, but I had yesterday; and I thought I would
be provided."

"You seem provided for a long time," Miss Pinshon remarked.

"Can't get anything up at Magnolia, except rice," said Preston, after
making the lady a bow which did not promise good fellowship. "You must
take with you what you are likely to want there."

"You will not want all that," said his mother.

"No ma'am, I hope not," said Preston, looking at his package demurely.
"Old Uncle Lot, you know, always has a cough; and I purpose delighting
him with some of my purchases. I will go and put them away."

"Old Uncle Lot!" my aunt repeated. "What Uncle Lot? I did not know you
had been enough at Magnolia to get the servants' names. But _I_ don't
remember any Uncle Lot."