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 shrill and consequential little voice; and in at the paddock-gate next minute there ran a very emphatic little girl. With her starchy pinafore-frills, her perked-up hair-ribbon, her lifted eyebrows and sharp little nose, she somehow presented the effect of having been sharpened into a point all over. “Why, here you are, all the time! an’ I’ve been hunting an’ hunting for you, gran’ma,” she proclaimed indignantly. “You’re just to come right straight home this very minnut—mumma says so. Here’s mumma coming now, her own self,” she ended, with a pout; and in fact a very stout woman, with a large, florid, good-natured, but rather stupid face, was to be seen just entering the paddock-gate. She puffed and panted as she came.

“Why, gran’ma,” she called out wheezily, “I’m sure I’m right-down glad to see you safe. We just couldn’t make out what was keepin’ you—thought old Blackberry must ha’ knocked you over or something. Joe, he’s a-give her that black cow, an’ she will milk her midday, as well as mornin’ an’ evenin’—an’ it does keep the dinner about so,” added Mrs. Métrailleur, between gasps, and rather apologetically, to Philippe, of whom, like almost everybody else in Pakarae, including even the acute little Susy, she stood somewhat in awe.

“It is the custom, where she comes from,” Philippe answered stiffly. He did not like to see the bewildered, helpless expression now stultifying Nanette’s kindly face; she looked nearly as dull as Mrs. Métrailleur herself. “We are of the same country, Madame and I,” he added, with a courteous bow in her direction.

“Why now, just think o’ that!” responded the