derful words in such a wonderful way. I dare say it prospered
all the better in my ears because of the mystery by which its meanings
were partly hidden. I had many questions to ask and she told me what
were fairies and silks and diamonds and grand ladies and noble
gentlemen.

We sat down to one of our familiar dinners of salt pork and milk gravy
and apple pie now enriched by sweet pickles and preserves and frosted
cake.

A query had entered my mind and soon after we began eating I asked:

"Aunt Deel, what is the difference between a boy and a girl?"

There was a little silence in which my aunt drew in her breath and
exclaimed, "W'y!" and turned very red and covered her face with her
napkin. Uncle Peabody laughed so loudly that the chickens began to
cackle. Mr. and Mrs. Dunkelberg also covered their faces. Aunt Deel rose
and went to the stove and shoved the teapot along, exclaiming:

"Goodness, gracious sakes alive!"

The tea slopped over on the stove. Uncle Peabody laughed louder and Mr.
Dunkelberg's face was purple. Shep came running into the house just as
I ran out of it. I had made up my mind that I had done something worse
than tipping over a what-not. Thoroughly frightened I fled and took
refuge behind the ash-house, where Sally found me. I knew of one thing I
would never do again. She coaxed me into the grove where we had another
play spell.

I needed just that kind of thing, and what a time it was for me! A
pleasant sadness comes when I think of that day--it was so long ago. As
the Dunkelbergs left us I stood looking down the road on which they were
disappearing and saw in the sky and the distant, purple hills and
sloping meadows the beauty of the world. The roaring aeroplane of a
humming bird whirled about me and sped through the hollyhock towers. I
followed and watched the tiny air-ship sticking its prow in their tops,
as if it would have me see how wonderful they were, before it sped away.
Breast deep in the flowers I forgot my loneliness for a few minutes. But
that evening my ears caught a note of sadness in the voice of the
katydids, and memory began to play its part with me. Best of all I
remembered the kisses and the bright blue eyes and the soft curly hair
with the smell of roses in it.

CHAPTER II

I MEET THE SILENT WOMAN AND SILAS WRIGHT, JR.

Amos Grimshaw was there in our dooryard the day that the old ragged
woman came along and told our fortunes--she that was called Rovin' Kate,