“Yes,” she answered after some moments. “If I hadn’t known—if you hadn’t told me that—even if he _were_, the ending of the summer would end his remembrance, I might have been—well, pretty silly a good many times.” Betsy looked up. “I hope I haven’t made a mistake, or spoiled any o’ your good times, dear.” “No,” answered the girl. “I’ve been more than glad of all your warnings. Everybody has been so kind, and there have been so many people who wanted to do things for me, that it was made easy in one way. I could avoid him without it’s looking strange to him, or any one else.” “Was there,” asked Betsy, “was there any other o’ the young men that you liked—just as well?” Rosalie turned and gave her a look. There was the darkening of the eyes that Betsy remembered, and the lip was caught under the girl’s teeth. Betsy fumbled with her darning-egg, dropped her eyes, and cleared her throat. “That child won’t _ever_ learn to be mejum!” she thought. “You’ve worked and played pretty hard, I guess,” she said, presently. “You’re some thin, Rosalie. I’ve been noticin’ it lately. I hope you feel real good.” “Never better,” was the reply. “I’m eager to go to work—real work. I hope I can make the girls like me.” “Law, child, you’ll have to fight ’em off,” was the reply. “Did—did you and Mr. Irving part real friendly?” “Oh, certainly. I must show you something he gave me a good while ago.” The girl rose and went to her own room. Betsy laid down her work and gazed ahead. “Ain’t she made o’ the real stuff, though!” she thought. “I guess Irving Bruce has found out that porcelain’s pretty strong sometimes!” Here Rosalie returned and put into her friend’s hands an exquisite white fan, whose carved sticks Betsy examined with admiration. “If he’s given you this?” she said, looking up questioningly. “He had to, I suppose,” returned the girl, “practically; he broke mine the first night we met at the inn. It was part of my outfit. I couldn’t object to his making it good.” Betsy laughed at the prosaic tone, and looked back at the rich toy. “He made it good, all right,” she remarked. “When you need another outfit you can pawn this.” “It is very handsome,” said Rosalie, regarding her possession, while the downcast eyes darkened again under their drooping lids. CHAPTER XXIX THE NEW YEAR AUTUMN with its crystalline days and frosty nights gave Betsy glorious views from her windows, but played havoc with her garden. Hiram had long ago put up his boat, and now he began building a small launch that Irving Bruce had ordered for the following season. With Thanksgiving Day came Rosalie. Hiram brought her home from the station in high satisfaction, and it seemed as if Betsy could never hear enough of her pleasant work in the school. “I’m bein’ awful mean and selfish,” announced Betsy. “I haven’t asked one person to dinner with us. Seems if we couldn’t share our little girl with anybody else to-day.”