of boarding school fare,
of which she had complained so bitterly, her cheeks were rounded, her
eyes brighter, and her lithe little figure fuller than of old. She had
improved in looks, but she did not appear to know it, or to guess how
beautiful she was in the fresh bloom of seventeen, with her golden hair
waving around her childish forehead, and her deep, blue eyes laughing so
expressively with each change of her constantly varying face. Everything
animate and inanimate pertaining to the old house was noticed by her.
She kissed the kitten, squeezed the cat, hugged the dog, and hugged the
little goat, tied to his post in the clover yard and trying so hard to
get free. The horse, to whom she fed handfuls of grass, had been already
hugged. She did that the first thing after strangling Uncle Ephraim as
she alighted from the train, and some from the car window saw it, too,
smiling at what they termed the charming simplicity of an enthusiastic
schoolgirl. Blessed youth! blessed early girlhood, surrounded by a halo
of rare beauty! It was Katy's shield and buckler, warding off many a
cold criticism which might otherwise have been passed upon her.

They were sitting down to dinner now, and the deacon's voice trembled
as, with the blessing invoked, he thanked God for bringing back to them
the little girl, whose head was for a moment bent reverently, but
quickly lifted itself up as its owner, in the same breath with that in
which the deacon uttered his amen, declared how hungry she was, and went
into rhapsodies over the nicely cooked viands which loaded the table.
The best bits were hers that day, and she refused nothing until it came
to Aunt Betsy's onions, once her special delight, but now declined,
greatly to the distress of the old lady, who, having been on the watch
for "quirks," as she styled any departure from long-established customs,
now knew she had found one, and with an injured expression withdrew the
offered bowl, saying sadly: "You used to eat 'em raw, Catherine; what's
got into you?"

It was the first time Aunt Betsy had called a name so obnoxious to Kate,
especially when, as in the present case, great emphasis was laid upon
the "rine," and from past experience Katy knew that her good aunt was
displeased. Her first impulse was to accept the dish refused; but when
she remembered her reason for refusing, she said, laughingly: "Excuse
me, Aunt Betsy, I love them still, but--but--well, the fact is, I am
going by and b