a is, and Mr. Hope: and then on _our_ farm
there are so many dear little young things: little calves, little lambs,
and little pigs. Little pigs are ducks--_very_ little ones, I mean; and
there is nearly always a young colt about, that eats out of my hand. Not
like a farm? The idea!"

"Then I will show you all over ours, you and your papa," said Walter,
warmly. He then asked Mr. Bartley where he was to be found; and when
Bartley told him at the "Dun Cow," he looked at Mary and said, "Oh!"

Mary understood in a moment, and laughed and said: "We are very
comfortable, I assure you. We have the parlor all to ourselves, and
there are samplers hung up, and oh! such funny pictures, and the landlady
is beginning to spoil me already."

"Nobody can spoil you, Mary," said Mr. Bartley.

"You ought to know, papa, for you have been trying a good many years."

"Not very many, Miss Bartley," said Colonel Clifford, graciously. Then he
gave half a start and said: "Here am I calling her miss when she is my
own niece, and, now I think of it, she can't be half as old as she looks.
I remember the very day she was born. My dear, you are an impostor."

Bartley changed color at this chance shaft. But Colonel Clifford
explained:

"You pass for twenty, and you can't be more than--Let me see."

"I am fifteen and four months," said Mary, "and I do take people
in--_cruelly_."

"Well," said Colonel Clifford, "you see you can't take me in. I know your
date. So come and give your old ruffian of an uncle a kiss."

"That I will," cried Mary, and flew at Colonel Clifford, and flung both
arms round his neck and kissed him. "Oh, papa," said she, "I have got an
uncle now. A hero, too; and me that is so fond of heroes! Only this is my
first--out of books."

"Mary, my dear," said Bartley, "you are too impetuous. Please excuse her,
Colonel Clifford. Now, my dear, shake hands with your cousin, for we must
be going."

Mary complied; but not at all impetuously. She lowered her long lashes,
and put out her hand timidly, and said, "Good-by, Cousin Walter."

He held her hand a moment, and that made her color directly. "You will
come over the farm. Can you ride? Have you your habit?"

"No, cousin; but never mind that. I can put on a long skirt."

"A skirt! But, after all, it does not matter a straw what _you_ wear."

Mary was such a novice that she did not catch the meaning of this on the
spot, but half-way to the inn, and in the middle of a conversa