se of 'erse'f."

"What have I done now, Aunt Clarissa?" sighed the frail-looking girl,
as she took off her sun-bonnet and stood in the centre of the room,
holding a bunch of wild flowers and delicate maiden-hair fern leaves in
her hand.

"Why, John Westerfelt has done you exactly as he has many a other gal,"
was the bolt the woman hurled. "He's settin' up to Lizzie Lithicum
like a house afire. I don't know but I'm glad of it, too, fer I've
told you time an' time agin that he didn't care a hill o' beans fer no
gal, but was out o' sight out o' mind with one as soon as another un
struck his fancy."

Sally became deathly pale as she turned to the bed in one of the
corners of the room and laid her flowers down. She was silent for
several minutes. All the others were watching her. Even her mother
seemed to have resigned her to the rude method of awakening which
suited her sister's heartless mood. At first it looked as if Sally
were going to ignore the thrust, but they soon discovered their
mistake, for she suddenly turned upon them with a look on her rigid
face they had never seen there before. It was as if youth had gone
from it, leaving only its ashes.

"I don't believe one word of it," she said, firmly. "I don't believe
it. I wouldn't believe it was anything but your mean meddling if you
swore it."

"Did you ever!" gasped Mrs. Slogan; "after all the advice I've give the
foolish girl!"

"Well, I reckon that's beca'se you don't want to believe it, Sally,"
said Slogan, without any intention of abetting his wife. "I don't want
to take sides in yore disputes, but Westerfelt certainly is settin'
square up to Ab's daughter. I seed 'em takin' a ride in his new
hug-me-tight buggy yesterday. She's been off to Cartersville, you
know, an' has come back with dead loads o' finery. They say she's
l'arned to play 'Dixie' on a pyanner an' reads a new novel every week.
Ab's awfully tickled about it. Down at the store t'other day, when
Westerfelt rid by on his prancin' hoss, Clem Dill said: 'Ab, I reckon
it won't be long 'fore you move over on yore son-in-law's big farm,'
an' Ab laughed so hard he let the tobacco juice run down on his shirt.

"'Liz 'll manage his case,' sez he. 'Westerfelt may fly around the
whole caboodle of 'em, but when Liz gits 'er head set she cuts a wide
swathe an' never strikes a snag ur stump, an' cleans out the
fence-corners as smooth as a parlor floor.'"

Sally bent down over her uncle; he