"Meant purely as a compliment," he assured her. "It would be mighty jolly to have you here, Blue Bonnet." She rose hurriedly. "Let's not go into that, please. Every time I get pretty near a decision, some new argument bobs up on the other side. I'm dreadfully worried, Alec. But, thank goodness, you're off my mind!" "I'll try to stay off, Blue Bonnet," he laughed as he followed her along the narrow path. "If you go back you'll write often, won't you? I shall depend on you--" She made a movement of impatience. "I'm not going to cross bridges, Alec, till I come to them." "I beg your pardon. I forgot that bridges are a touchy subject with you!" They found Uncle Cliff and the General still absorbed in what appeared to be an interminable conversation. The General rose with old-fashioned courtesy as Blue Bonnet came up the veranda steps. "What do you think of your new cowboy?" he asked, laying his hand affectionately on Alec's shoulder. "We've just been exchanging opinions with each other," she said, with a sidelong glance at Alec. "I'm going to miss the boy," General Trent continued. "The old house will be very dull and empty,--unless you make up your mind to be particularly neighborly, Miss Blue Bonnet." Blue Bonnet colored and looked way. "I--I'll do my best if--" "Will you walk down to the stable with me, Grandfather?" Alec asked quickly. "I've not shown you the little coyotes yet." As the General walked away with his hand still on Alec's shoulder, Blue Bonnet turned to her uncle. "Read this, will you please, Uncle? It came to-day." He took Aunt Lucinda's letter, an odd expression growing around his mouth. But he opened it without speaking. Blue Bonnet sank into the hammock and watched him narrowly,--much as Grandmother had watched her as she read the same pages. She saw his lower teeth close on his mustache when he came to the significant part. He lifted his eyes at last. "Well, Honey?" "Well, Uncle?" He sighed deeply. "Are you putting this up to me?" She raised her shoulders in an expressive shrug. "I reckon you ought to have the deciding vote. I'm on the fence." "Do you want to be a musician, Blue Bonnet?" "I'd love to--if it weren't for all the practising!" "Seems to me you play mighty well now." "I'm very careless in my methods, Aunt Lucinda says." Uncle Cliff winced. "None of the girls play as well as you do, Honey." "I--I don't believe they do. But maybe, Uncle Cliff, that is a very good reason why I should go on with it. Maybe I really have talent." "Wouldn't it be very lonesome off there in Boston? And won't it be mostly work and very little play?" "I'm afraid it will. But, somehow, it's chiefly because it will be so much easier to stay on the ranch and be--desultory, as Aunt Lucinda says,--that I think I ought to go." "I see, Honey. You _are_ developing a New England conscience!" "I wonder?" she pondered.