ous pitchers that glittered in a
brilliant color which was called British luster, with a brass snuffers
and tray and candlesticks, were the only concession to the spirit of
worldliness.

Primrose entered with a lagging step behind her aunt. There sat Mistress
Janice Kent in her riding habit of green cloth faced with red silk, and
a habit shirt of the same color just showing at the neck where the
lapels crossed. Her hat was wound around with a green veil, and her
gauntlet gloves were of yellow buckskin broidered with black. In one
hand she still held her riding whip. A somewhat airy but
dignified-looking person with dark, rather sharp eyes, and dark hair;
and a considerable amount of color, heightened now by the rapid
exercise.

"Mercy of me! The child has grown mightily!" she exclaimed. "Indeed,
there will not be a thing fit for her to wear! Madam Wetherill was
considering that, and has sent for new measurements. With the last
vessel in, has come lots of choice stuffs of every kind, and the maid
has already fallen to work. How do you do, Mistress Primrose? Rose would
better become such a blossoming maid without the Prim," and she laughed
gayly, as if pleased with her conceit. "Come hither, child; do not be
afraid. There, I'll lay my whip on the floor. It has a threatening look,
I will admit, yet 'tis a harmless thing without the owner's hand. I am
sent to measure thee, Mistress Rose, and to announce that next Wednesday
the chaise will be sent out for you, with perhaps Madam Wetherill.
Meanwhile we shall be making ready to transform you from a sober gray
Friend to a gay young damsel. It is a pity you are not older. There
will be great doings this winter."

Lois Henry's face settled into sterner lines. It was a sweet and
peaceful face, rendered so by some discipline and much freedom from
care. For the Friends made small efforts to shine in society, and at
this period there were few calls upon charity or even sympathy. James
Henry was a prosperous farmer, and the style of living simple. Fair as
to complexion, rather aquiline in features, with blue-gray eyes and
nearly straight brows, her soft hair drawn back from her forehead and
gathered under a plain cap with a frill a little full at the sides and
scant across the top, a half square of white linen crossed over her
bosom, a gray homespun gown reaching barely to the ankles, with blue
homeknit stockings and stout low shoes with a black buckle on the top,
Lois Henry was