You ain't an old maid; no, nor a Boston first-family widow, neither.

Now, the hat I liked--the yellow and blue one--had some get-up-and-git.

If you wore that out on Tremont Street folks would turn around and look at you." Mary-'Gusta laughed and squeezed his hand.

"You silly Uncle Shad," she said, "don't you know that is exactly what I don't want them to do ?" Shadrach turned his gaze in her direction.

She was at the end of the car seat next to the window and against the light of the setting sun her face and head were silhouetted in dainty profile.