“Yes, I have called to see if you could spare Dexie for a drive with me this morning.”

“Certainly.  Gussie, hunt her up.”

“Dexie is very busy this morning, papa,” Gussie replied, “but I am at leisure, Mr. Traverse, if you are looking for company.”

“Busy, is she?” said Mr. Sherwood; “then go and relieve her, Gussie, for she has been up half the night and needs a rest,” and raising his voice, called: 

“Dexie, Dexie; come here.”

Dexie was standing outside the door waiting for this summons, and she entered the room, her head still enveloped in the enormous sun-bonnet, her arms bare to the elbow, and her whole appearance proclaiming her a busy little woman.

“Did you call me, papa?” and she stepped to his side.

The contrast between them was too painful, and Gussie blushed with embarrassment, and hastily exclaimed: 

“Leave the room, Dexie, Mr. Traverse is here.”

“Where!” and the scoop-like bonnet was turned in his direction.

“Oh, good morning, Mr. Traverse.  Excuse my toilet, but we wash sometimes at our house, and this is one of the times.  Fine morning this for washerwomen.  Now, what do you want of me, papa?” and she turned leisurely to her father again, much to Gussie’s horror.

“Well, Traverse called to take you for a drive, but I doubt if he will care to ask you after seeing you in such a rig.”

“This is not my carriage dress, my dear papa, but my working suit; but seeing that Mr. Traverse has been talking to me at the back gate in this very rig and survived the shock, I trust the second sight won’t prove disastrous.  If you say you can spare me, I’ll promise not to appear in this costume in public.  Thanks, papa.  How soon do you wish to start, Mr. Traverse?”

“In half an hour, if possible,” was the smiling answer.

“You will find me waiting your appearance,” and making a sweeping, old-fashioned courtesy, she pulled her bonnet forward with a jerk and danced out of the room.

Traverse looked after her with a smile, and with a few pleasant words to Mr. Sherwood, and a polite “good-morning” to Gussie, he bowed himself out.

As soon as Guy was beyond hearing, Gussie’s ill-humor found vent.  She did not see why Dexie should leave her work to go about the country with young men, and Traverse must have regretted his invitation when he caught sight of Dexie’s ridiculous figure, her dress to the top of her boots and a sun-bonnet that would disgrace a country-woman!  But one never knew what Dexie would do next.  Awhile ago she could scarcely speak a civil word to Mr. Traverse, but now that she knows he expects to be married, her manner is just the reverse.  Reproaches like these fell on Mr. Sherwood’s ears unheeded, but a kindly smile lit up his face when Dexie made her appearance, looking as dainty as if right out of a band-box, and as she drew on her gloves a handsome buggy drove up to the door.