e,--"one thinks one's visage of
caoutchouc. But this is passable; I assure you, senorita, passable."

"Well, I declare!" said Marm Prudence. "My best looking-glass, that I
brought from Chelsea, Massachusetts, when I was first married! If it
ain't good enough for you, young woman, you're free to do without it,
and so I tell you."

She spoke with some severity, but softened instantly as she turned to
Rita. "Now you'll lie down and rest you a spell, won't you, dear?" she
said. "I must go and see about supper, and I sha'n't be satisfied till I
see you tucked up under my 'Old Glory spread.' That's what I call it; it
has the colours, you see. There! comfortable? Now you shut your pretty
eyes, and have a good sleep. And you," she added, turning to Manuela,
"can come and help me a spell, if you've nothing better to do. I'm
short-handed; help is turrible skurce in war-time, and I can keep you
out of Satan's hands, if nothing else."

CHAPTER IX.

IN HIDING.

"You busy, Miss Margaritty?"

It was Marm Prudence's voice, and at the sound Rita opened her door
quickly. She and Manuela had been holding a mournful consultation over
the state of her wardrobe, which had had rough usage during the past two
weeks, and she was glad of an interruption.

"I thought mebbe you'd like to come and set with me a spell while I
worked."

"Oh, yes!" cried Rita, eagerly. "And may I not work, too? Isn't there
something I can do to help?"

"Why, I should be pleased!" said the good woman. "I'm braidin' hats for
the soldiers. I promised a dozen to-morrow night. It's pretty work;
mebbe you'd like to try."

"For the soldiers? For our soldiers? Oh, what joy, Marm Prudencia! No,
Prudence, you like better that. Show me, please! I burn to begin."

"Why, you're real eager, ain't you?" said Marm Prudence. "Now I'm glad I
spoke; I thought mebbe 'twould suit you. Young folks like to be at
something."

In a few minutes the two were seated on the cool inner verandah, looking
out on the garden, with a great basket between them, heaped with
delicate strips of palmetto leaf, white and smooth.

"Husband, he whittles 'em for me," Marm Prudence explained. "It's
occupation for him. Fleshy as he is, he can't get about none too much,
and this keeps his hands busy. It's hard to be a man and lose the
activity of your limbs. But there! there's compensations, I always say.
If Noonsey was as he was ten years ago, he'd be off with the rest, and
then where'd