“Oh! that’s only a valentine, Plaisted.  You surely did not allow such a little thing to disturb you?” said Mr. Sherwood.

“But see what the envelope contains,” he urged, bringing out the bedecked fish.

But if he expected any sympathy, he was disappointed, for when Mr. Sherwood’s eyes rested on the figure and read the lines beneath, shout after shout of laughter rang through the room, and when Gussie stepped over to see what the paper contained her shrill laughter joined the chorus.

“Well, it serves you just right, Mr. Plaisted,” said she.  “I told you she would make you repent it if you used her name so freely.  But I wonder how she found out your name?  Could she have been in the back parlor while we were talking?”

“I believe she was!” Plaisted replied.  “But the shad for dinner?  Need you have added that?  The valentine was punishment enough!”

Another shout of laughter from Mr. Sherwood, and Gussie’s perplexed looks gave place to an amused smile.

“Dexie planned it herself!  Ha! ha! ha!  I see it all!” and Mr. Sherwood roared again.  “She marked this out as a day of punishment for you, Plaisted, and she has carried it out pretty well!  Ha! ha!  It was she herself who told me to ask you to dinner, saying she had everything ready for you, and was going to ‘heap coals of fire’ on your head because you had been treating her badly.  Ha! ha!  Guess you are pretty well scorched, sure enough!” and he leaned back in his chair and wiped his hot face.

“Yes, she has scorched me!  Those verses are burnt into my memory and repeat themselves in spite of me.  But you seemed to have studied up the whole business of shad-fishing just for the occasion.”

“But, on my honor, Plaisted, I was entirely ignorant that my talk was annoying you.  Come to think of it, Dexie herself kept me at it.  How she must have enjoyed it!” and he laughed again.  “I thought it strange that she ordered shad for dinner,” said Mrs. Sherwood.  “Yet she actually asked me to scold her before you all if they were not cooked satisfactorily.”

“You will not have a chance to call her ‘Dexter’ again,” said Gussie, “unless you want to be addressed as Shadrach or Shad.  Whichever you dislike the most, you will be sure to get.  Now I understand what she meant when she asked me before dinner if I would praise the shad,” and she joined her father’s laugh; it was so contagious.

“Well, I will be compelled to cry quits, sure enough,” said Plaisted; “but I never suspected that she could make such comical verses.”

“Oh! that is second-hand poetry, Plaisted.  She has been misquoting the ‘Widow Bedott’ for your benefit,” said Mr. Sherwood.

“And who is the ’Widow Bedott’?”

“She is a character in a most amusing book.  Let me advise you to take her as a travelling companion with you to-morrow.  After you have read about her Shadrach, the poetry won’t trouble you as being too personal.”