The girl had one of Mrs. Porter's hands and with the other arm she now softly embraced her bewildered aunt, then drew away far enough to look into the questioning eyes of first one and then the other. "You've both had so much trouble with me," she said. "Well?" returned Miss Barry crisply. "Is it over?" The girl nodded. "Linda," said Mrs. Porter, with excited urgency, "what has happened, dear?" The girl continued to look at them for a moment of silence, as if loath to let her secret pass her lips. "Bertram!" exclaimed Mrs. Porter. Linda nodded. Miss Barry gave her niece a shake. "Speak out," she said, cross in the mounting excitement of the moment. "Has he been over here?" "No. I went there. Blanche Aurora sent me with a snack. The hens got the snack; but--we had tea." "Oh, you darling!" exclaimed Mrs. Porter under the eloquent eyes and dimples. "You shall kiss her first, Miss Barry. Hurry up. I can't wait." "I don't see any reason for kissing her," said Miss Barry, and her earrings quivered with what she was repressing. "Feeding dainties to the hens. The idea!" "Oh, there is a reason, there is a reason, Aunt Belinda." Her namesake spoke softly, and taking her in her arms kissed her. "How good you've been to me!" she said tenderly. Then Mrs. Porter had her turn, and the eyes of both women grew wet in their long embrace. "Well, give _me_ some place to sit down," said Miss Barry desperately. She looked around and found a piazza chair, into which she dropped. "In all my born days I never saw such a girl. She's either got to hang a man to a sour apple tree, or else she's got to marry him!" * * * * * Over at the homestead Bertram King was winning golden laurels from his self-appointed caretaker. At the supper table his novel vivacity and good appetite gave him the appearance of complete recovery. "See here," remarked Whitcomb, "solitary confinement is evidently all you've been needing. We'll clear out soon again. Even you went away, didn't you, Luella?" The speaker turned to Miss Benslow, whom on his return he had discovered scrambling about to get supper in her robes of state. She was now waiting on table and blessing Jerry Holt for his dilatoriness in bringing the Lindsays home. "I did step out for a spell," she returned in her best manner; "but I guess I warn't missed," she added coyly. "Miss Linda Barry gave Mr. King his tea." "Really!" drawled Madge Lindsay. "How cleverly she chose the right moment for her first call." "There are cats in the room," announced Whitcomb, helping himself to honey. Madge lifted her eyebrows and made a defiant grimace. "I met her as she was a-comin' back," said Luella. "I guess she felt dretful bad not findin' me home, 'cause she said she'd call again to-morrer." This remark coming under the head of what Madge called "juices," she glanced at Whitcomb for sympathy, but he was preoccupied. He was looking curiously at King's debonair countenance.