es, she
would not heed his frowns.

Not only Andrew, but Penn, acknowledged her witching sway. She could
ride finely now on horseback or with a pillion, and the cunning little
beauty persuaded one or the other to take her out on numerous
excursions.

"One could envy thee heartily," declared Faith. "For when Rachel and I
desire any recreation or to go of some errand, there are a thousand
excuses. What coaxing art hast thou? And how dost thou come by so much
prettiness? Was it on thy mother's side?"

"Am I so pretty?" She laughed in a gay, amused fashion. "Sometimes Patty
says I shall grow old and yellow and wrinkled, but though Aunt
Wetherill's hair is snowy-white, and there are tiny marks and creases
in her skin, she is not yellow nor cross, and looks like the most
beautiful of queens in her brocades and satins."

"But what is a queen if there are no thrones here in America?"

"Oh, how dull thou art! It is because we call anyone a queen who is a
beautiful and dignified woman, and can receive with graciousness, and
hold a little court about her."

"But the fine clothes are vain and wicked. And--and plaiting of the
hair, and the much pleasuring--and the giddy talk----"

The small Quakeress paused with a sort of longing and envy that she
could think of no more sins.

"But my hair is not plaited. I think the good God curled it just as he
makes the pretty vine creep up and twine about. And He makes a gay,
beautiful world, where birds go flying and dazzle the air with their
bright colors. Dost thou know the firebird, with his coat of red, and
the yellow finches and the bluebirds? The little brown wren greets them
in her pert way, and I dare say takes pleasure in them. And how many
flowers you find in the woods and the meadows."

"I never go for flowers. It is a sinful waste of time, and we have no
use for them, since they do but litter everything. And thou wilt some
day be called to account for these idle, frivolous moments."

"I do not know. I think God means us to be happy. And I cannot help
being gay and pleased with all the things He has made. It is very
naughty and unkind to despise them."

Faith knew in her heart there were many things she would be glad to
have, and that she hated to sit in the house and spin and sew, when
Primrose was roaming around with Penn and Andrew, and riding on the hay
cart amid the fragrant dried grass.

"Andrew, wilt thou always be a Quaker?" Primrose asked one evening when
she