These stories first issued in book form in the author's Castle Nowhere, Boston, 1875
'Mr Solomon, then, belonged to the Community?' I asked, trying to gather up the threads of the story.
'No he didn't either; he's no Dutchman, I reckon, he's a Lake County man, born near Painesville, he is.'
'I thought you spoke as though he had been in the Community.'
'So he had; he didn't belong, but he worked for 'em since he was a boy, did middling well, in spite of the painting, until one day, when he come over to Sandy on a load of wood and seen me standing at the door. That was the end of him,' continued the woman, with an air of girlish pride; 'he couldn't work no more for thinking of me.'
'Où la vanité va-t-elle se nicher?' murmured Ermine, rising. 'Come, Dora, it is time to return.'
As I hastily finished my last cup of sulphur water, our hostess followed Ermine towards the door. 'Will you have your handkercher back, marm?' she said, holding it out reluctantly.
'It was a free gift, madam,' replied my cousin; 'I wis