Standish of Standish

hore to launch her. Where art thou, poppet! " " Here," replied a gentler and sweeter voice, as Mary Chilton came forward, a long gray stocking dangling from her hands, and stood in a slant ray of sunshine which lighted her golden hair to a glory, and showed the pure tints of her May-bloom face and clear blue eyes; a lovely English face in its first fresh rapture of morning beauty. " Right merrily will I come, Priscilla, if there be aught to see," continued she, throwing down the stocking which she was knitting for her father. " Truly my eyes ache with staring at nothingness." " Well, there 's a trifle this side of nothingness on the beach at this minute," retorted Priscilla, pinching her friend's ear. " Men call it Gilbert Winslow." " Hush, hush, Priscilla! " whispered Mary, with a scared look toward her mother's cabin. " If anybody heard such folly ! And Mistress White already tells my mother that we two are over-light in our carriage and conversation." " Mistress White " ? began Priscilla sharply, but ended the exclamation with a saucy laugh and said instead, " Yes, truly as thou sayest, my May, mine eyes ache with gazing upon nothingness and my tongue aches with speaking naught but wisdom. It is out of nature for young maids to be as staid as their elders, and me- thinks I do not care to be. Let us be young while we have youth, say I." She looked perilously pretty as she arched her brows and pouted her ripe lips, and Mary looked at her in lovi...