imitate
and failed, and laughed gleefully at her non-success. Where was the old
tree blown almost over by wind and storm that she used to run up, and
fancy herself a squirrel? Ah, here it was! bent over so much more that
its branches touched the ground. She walked up the trunk, holding out
both arms to keep her balance, and then sitting down where three
branches crossed and made a seat. The apples were hard and sour, she
remembered, regular winter apples. She rocked to and fro, singing with
the birds and watching the white boats go sailing across the sky. She
laughed in her lightness of heart, though there was no malice in it. She
did not even give the household a thought.

And then she was suddenly hungry. She sighed a little. Were there any
more ripe, sweet apples, she wondered! Oh, how long would she have to
stay at Uncle Henry's? It was early July now, six months. What a long,
long while as she counted them up! And there would be winter when she
could not run out of doors, and no lessons, no books to pore over, no
music, no great parlor full of strange things that she never tired of
inspecting, no pretty ladies in silk and satin gowns, chattering and
laughing.

What with the soft wind and the swaying motion she began to feel sleepy
again. She crawled down and looked for the tree they had found
yesterday. Alas! its branches were too high for her conquest. She threw
herself down on the grass and leaned against the trunk, and in five
minutes was soundly asleep.

Rachel had gone about her duties in a quiet, rather resentful manner.
Once Chloe had asked about the child.

"I have called her twice," was the brief answer.

Then she heard grandmother stirring and went up to dress her and gave
her some breakfast. She would not even look in the small chamber where
she supposed Primrose was lazily sleeping. Afterward she called in
Faith, who washed her hands and changed her frock, as the dew and dirt
had made it unsightly.

"If thou wouldst only be careful and tuck it up around thy knees," said
Rachel in a fretted tone. "There is no sense in getting so draggled, and
it makes overmuch washing."

"Shall I take the towels out to hem?" asked Faith.

"Yes. Thee should get them done this morning. Aunt Lois spoke of thy
dilatoriness."

Faith longed to ask about the newcomer. It was sinful indulgence for her
to be lying abed. And why was she not sent to weed in the garden or put
at other unpleasant work?

Rachel heard th