"If I were you, Harry," she said at length, but Harry interrupted her. "Oh, I know what you're thinking of, but that's different," he protested; "my mother says so. Anyway, I didn't come over here to argue," he finished crossly. Janet wanted to ask him what he had come over for, but she was just a little ashamed of the way she had been acting. After all, Harry was an old friend of hers, and it wasn't his fault that he was fat and always complaining. She gave herself a little shake and smiled. "It is silly to scrap; let's go for a walk," she suggested. "All right, if you want to," Harry agreed, "but I came over to tell you that there's a letter for you at the post office, and Miss Clark says you haven't been for mail for over a week, and there are some letters for your grandmother and a newspaper. I'd have brought them to you but the old crosspatch wouldn't let me. She said I'd lose them on the way, and she was responsible for the U.S. mail. I don't think much of Miss Clark any--" Harry stopped rambling, and stared at Janet. "Now what have I done!" he demanded. Janet marched off down the road, and he followed. "Gee, but you're queer lately!" he grumbled. Janet stopped to look at him. Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes danced with excitement. "Harry Waters," she said, "if I were a dog I think I'd bite you." The rest of the way to the village Harry had hard work keeping up with her. At the post office, Miss Clark insisted on asking innumerable questions about Mrs. Page. "You didn't come for the mail for such a long time that I said to my sister last night, 'I wonder if Mrs. Page has had a turn,' so this morning I told the Waters' boy to tell you that there were several letters in your box--" "May I have them, please,"--Janet tried politely to stem the tide, but Miss Clark did not even notice the interruption. "Time was when one letter a week was all most folks looked for, but, lands sakes, nowadays with all these advertisements and picture postcards, your box is full before you know it. Did you say your grandmother was sick?" "No, she is quite well, thank you. Er--may I--?" Janet tried again, and Miss Clark did walk over to the box. "Well, that's a blessing," she said over her shoulder. "I do think that when a body must lie abed all day that they ought to have good health except for that. Now when my aunt Lucy-- Why, I do declare--" Miss Clark interrupted herself this time--"I clean forgot to tell you there was a letter for you. It's from your brother. Now that seems odd; he always writes to your grandmother, but this certainly is for you. I can't imagine why it slipped my mind. I've been thinking about it all week." "May I have it, please?" Janet held out her hand, and with apparent reluctance Miss Clark gave her the little bundle of letters. She took them, said a hasty thank you, and escaped from the post office before there was time for any more conversation.