E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) A SPECKLED BIRD by AUGUSTA EVANS WILSON Author of "St. Elmo," "Vashti," "Infelice," "At the Mercy of Tiberius," etc. "As a speckled bird, the birds round about are against her." G. W. Dillingham Company Publishers New York Copyright, 1902, by G. W. Dillingham Company A Speckled Bird. Issued August, 1902. To MY KIND READERS KNOWN AND UNKNOWN, WHO HAVE DESIRED AND ASKED ME TO WRITE AGAIN, THESE PAGES ARE OFFERED IN GRATEFUL RECOGNITION OF VERY LOYAL FRIENDSHIP DURING MANY YEARS A SPECKLED BIRD CHAPTER I "Grandma, who named me Eglah?" "My cousin, Bishop Vivian, when he baptized you." "Do you think he had any right to put such a label on me?" "Certainly, because your father selected your name, and the bishop had no choice." "It is so ugly, I never can like it, and a little baby that can't speak her mind ought not to be tied to something she must drag all her life and hate for ever and ever." "Eat your breakfast, and try to be a good, quiet child, then your name will not trouble you so much." "I never shall like it, any more than you do, and you know, grandma, when you call me your mouth twists like you had toothache." "I was not consulted about your name. It belonged to your New England Grandmother Kent, and as it appears you belong only to your father, you were called after his mother. I heard him tell you it was the name of a queen--one of David's wives." "Yes, but I found out she was not the head queen--just a sort of step-wife queen. Now if I could only be the pet queen, Sheba, I should not fret at all." "The Queen of Sheba was not David's wife." "You are all wrong about your Bible, grandma, because you are only a Methodist. David's Sheba was nicknamed Bath Sheba, for the reason that he saw her going to her bath-house, and she looked so pretty. I saw her picture in father's 'Piscopal Bible." "There, there! Be quiet. Drink your milk." Mrs. Maurice leaned back in her chair and sighed as she looked down at the fragile child beside her. The tall, silver coffee urn showed in repousse on one side the flight of Europa, on the other Dirce dragged to death. Eglah could never understand how the strands of the victim's hair supported the weight of her form, and wondered why they did not give way and set the prisoner free. To-day she eyed it askance, then surveyed her own fair image reflected in the polished, smooth surface below the band of figures. "Grandma, don't you think horses are much nicer for ladies to ride than oxen?" "Yes, my dear." "Then why did you buy ox riders?" one small finger pointed to the heirloom fetich.