"Blue Bonnet's usual way of avoiding an answer," thought Kitty. "When does the Fall term of school begin?" asked Sarah. "The tenth of September,--and that means we must leave here about the third," said Susy. "Only two weeks of this for us, girls!" "We'll see that they are two busy weeks," Kitty promised. Blue Bonnet drew Uncle Cliff into a secluded spot on the side veranda. "You just saved my life, Uncle Cliff." "Were you being talked to death, Honey?" "No,--but I just escaped a pitfall. People do ask the most--uncomfortable questions." "Suppose you tell me what sort?" "Well, Ruth says people want to know when the Texas Blue Bonnet is going back to Woodford." "So that's come up again, eh?" Uncle Cliff knitted his brow. "I reckon you're doing some thinking along that line, Blue Bonnet?" He watched her face anxiously. She nodded. "Yes, I--you see there isn't much time left. I must decide soon. It's not going to be easy, Uncle Cliff." "No,--not for either of us, Honey." "And there's Grandmother, too,--and Aunt Lucinda. Other people seem to have a lot to say about one's life, don't they?" "They have a lot to say, Blue Bonnet, but the person who has the final 'say' is yourself. You're old enough now to decide what you want to do with your life. Sixteen to-morrow!" "I know what I want to do with my life, Uncle, but I don't know yet just how to do it." "Don't you think you could manage to do it on the ranch? We know now where to get a first-class tutor, and--" "Oh, as far as 'book-learnin''--as Uncle Joe calls it,--goes, I reckon I could get that all right, here on the ranch with a tutor. But books, I've found out, aren't more than half of an education. You know, life's mighty simple on the ranch, and I've grown used to doing things the easiest way. But that isn't the big way. Aunt Lucinda says every woman should have a vocation." Uncle Cliff squirmed. Blue Bonnet seemed to have assimilated a rather big dose of Aunt Lucinda. "But, Honey," he protested, "a girl with plenty of money doesn't need a vocation." "Oh, she didn't mean that kind of a vocation. It's a sort of glorified way of doing your duty by your neighbor. And you know it isn't very easy to do your duty by your neighbor when the nearest neighbor is miles away! Now, Aunt Lucinda is the most all-round useful person. She's helping to keep up a home for cripples in Boston, and is secretary of the Church Aid Society, runs Grandmother's house and--" "Everybody in it!" added Uncle Cliff. Blue Bonnet slipped her hand into his with a sympathetic pressure. "I reckon I caught it from you,--liking to paddle my own canoe, I mean. But, though I don't love discipline, I've learned to appreciate what it can do. Now, look at Solomon--" "--in all his glory!" laughed Uncle Cliff. At that moment the subject of the conversation was occupied in gnawing a very dirty bone on the forbidden territory of the veranda.