But he tells them that I am a spy. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place. No umbrella either, the sky was delightfully overcast. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. " "Let me go," implored Mrs.
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