pared even for the mere physical yielding that alone saves such an
embrace from awkwardness, found him lost. Annie felt it and stiffened,
and the moment had gone never to come back. In after years, when Annie
had magnified it to herself and him, accusing him of throwing her love
back in her face when she had offered it, he was wont to reproach
himself bitterly. But Annie was so volatile in emotion, except where
Archelaus was concerned, that her new flow would, in all likelihood, not
have held its course for more than a few weeks at the best. Ishmael knew
this, but Annie, by dint of telling herself the contrary, never did. The
awkwardness of the actual moment was saved by Phoebe, who had hung in
the background waiting for what she thought might be the most telling
moment to glide forward, but who, her natural pleasure at sight of her
old playmate suddenly overbearing more studied considerations, could
contain herself in silence and the shadows no longer.

"Ishmael!" she cried, running forward. "Ishmael!"

She held out her two hands and Vassie thought swiftly: "It's no good, my
dear; he's for your betters--he and I ..." and with a worldliness that
went far towards bearing out her claims to ladyhood she broke in with:

"You remember little Phoebe, Ishmael--from the mill...."

"Why, of course. You haven't grown much, though you've got your hair
done up," said Ishmael, thankful for any diversion from Annie's
reproachful arms, which had slid from his neck to hang by her side.

"I'm quite grown-up, though," said Phoebe, dimpling.

"She mean's she's too old for you to kiss, lad," said simple John-James
with directness, grinning as he took the mare's bridle to lead her to
the stable. Ishmael had not yet the social cleverness to kiss Phoebe
at once and without embarrassment or to laugh the suggestion away, but
she, who had no social sense at all and never attained any, met the
moment perfectly, with a little curtsey and a sidelong look of
merriment. "Ah, I remember when Ishmael refused to kiss me, and I cried
myself to sleep over it," she said; "'tisn't likely I'm going to let him
kiss me now."

"No--did I ...?" asked he; and Vassie gave a shrill laugh.

"To be sure he did and would again," she declared; "he's not thinking of
such things. Mamma, is tea ready in the parlour?"

"I fear I forgot about it, Vassie, my dear, but Katie shall get it to
wance. Come in here, Ishmael. We do sit here now; simminly we're
quality, acc