“Why will it not? I’ll stop now.” She lifted the boiling dye from the fire, and with two sticks raised the pieces of cloth from the hot liquid, flinging them into a tub near by. “They’re weel enow colored,” she decided, “and I’ll finish up gin dinner-time. I’ve no gloves, Mr. Willett, an’ I’ll not get back the color of me hands afore the week’s out. Gin Sabbath day they beeta look better. Will ye have me so? I can never do a bit of dyeing, but I must give me hands the color of me goods, be it butternut, blue, or yellow. Agnes, there, gets but the tips of her fingers in, and is nigh greetin’ at that, so I threatened to give her hair the same color.” “Be done, Polly,” cried Agnes, as Polly advanced upon her again, “I’ll not help you with the dyeing if you treat me so. Do be quiet. If you stop now, when will I get my linen dyed?” “You’ll get it gin Tibb’s eve,” returned Polly, “if ye fa’ out wi’ me now.” “Ah, but Polly--” “Go long into the house wid ye, ye two, an’ I’ll finish up. Ye might be gittin’ the vegetables for dinner, Nancy, an’ I’ll come make a puddin’. I beeta be makin’ one in honor of the stranger.” “You’d better not be giving me too good a dinner,” said Parker, “or you’ll be putting my supper to shame.” “No fear o’ that. In wid ye.” She brandished her stick, and the two departed to the garden to gather such early vegetables as they might find ready for use. “It’s been a long time since I saw you,” said Parker, speaking his thought. “Yes?” Agnes was well aware of it, and was disposed to be a little distant in consequence, though she well knew his reason for absenting himself. “I have been busy, too, and I have been two or three times to see Jeanie. The last mail brought good news from Archie; he is hard at work and hopes by diligence to complete his course in a less time than we at first thought he could. He wrote me quite a long letter; he really can write more freely than he can talk.” She looked serenely unconscious as Parker stole a glance at her. “I suppose you were delighted to hear from him?” “Oh, yes. Who wouldn’t be glad to hear from an old friend? You would be, wouldn’t you, to hear from Alicia, for example?” [Illustration: PARKER WATCHED HER FOR A FEW MINUTES, NOT ATTEMPTING TO HELP.] “Agnes!” His voice was reproachful. “I didn’t think you were a coquette.” The flush which dyed Agnes’s cheek was caused by both wrath and contrition. “I don’t see what cause you have to say that,” she replied lightly. “You know perfectly well how it is with Archie and me. I shall probably marry him if I find no one more likable before he returns.” “More likable? No, I didn’t know that. You didn’t tell me before. And Archie is very likable?” “Yes, very; and so good and constant and thoughtful of pleasing me. He never neglected me in his life.” “You have a very good opinion of him.”