AS the days flew by, the stranger became a bit more friendly, conversing sometimes with Mrs. Dainty and Aunt Charlotte, but often, far more often, with Mrs. Paxton. It was not that she sought to become acquainted with Floretta's mother; it was, rather, that Mrs. Paxton seemed determined to force the friendship. "Her name is Fenton, Mrs. Fenton, and isn't it odd, _my_ name was Fenton before I married. Floretta's middle name is Fenton. I really feel almost as if I were related to her, because of the name," declared Mrs. Paxton one morning, whereupon Mrs. Fenton, coming out on to the piazza, remarked: "Oh, indeed!" Mrs. Paxton blushed and hesitated, then recovering herself, she said: "I was just telling these ladies of my friendly feeling for you." "Oh, indeed!" Mrs. Fenton repeated, as she sank into a large rocker, and looked off across the valley to the distant mountains. After a few moments she seemed to have lost interest in the view, and, taking up a small embroidery frame, commenced to ply her needle as if she were eager to finish the pretty doily. Two little figures came slowly up the path to the piazza. They were returning from the christening of the little boat. "What is wrong, Jack? You don't look very happy," said Mrs. Tiverton. "He wanted me to christen his boat, but he wouldn't give it my name!" said Floretta, before Jack could reply. "She thought just because she hemmed the sails I'd name it the _Floretta_, but I wouldn't, so I shoved it into the water myself, and shouted _Carlotta_. That's the name of a girl that goes to my school, and I like her." "You say Floretta hemmed your sails," said Mrs. Tiverton. "Well, I thanked her for that, and I let her go to the launching, and I let her christen it, but I don't see that I need name it for her," said Jack, stoutly. Mrs. Fenton had not heeded what the children were saying. One might have fancied that she did not hear, although both Floretta and Jack stood quite near her chair. A large spool that she had wound with colored silk slipped from her lap, and rolled toward Floretta. "Pick it up, dear," Mrs. Paxton said. "Don't want to," said Floretta. Mrs. Fenton stooped, and recovered the spool, and, taking her embroidery frame in her hand, left the piazza, and mounted the stairs to her room. "Why _were_ you so rude?" said Mrs. Paxton, but Floretta, perching upon the low railing, began softly humming "Yankee Doodle." Jack Tiverton, espying a boy that he knew, whistled loudly, and then, as the other boy turned, ran after him, the two whooping and shouting like savages. "It is almost lunch time, Jack!" Mrs. Tiverton cried, and the boy turned, and waved his hand to show that he heard her. "Boys aren't apt to forget meal time," muttered old Mr. Cunningham behind his paper. True enough, Jack returned in ample time, and was the first at the table. Early in the afternoon Dorothy and Nancy went out for a drive with Romeo.