"Deer Janis, see if my echo is thar. Yu no my echo--that is the way techur says to spell it. If my echo is waitn tell it I am comin' to heer it again. And I luv you lots and lots, deer Janis. I will show you how much when I com home to father and Pokton. no moar at prasens, from your little Lottie." Janice read the pitiful little scrawl through the first time on the store porch. Then, tear-blinded, she started down the hill toward the old wharf at the inlet where she had first seen Hopewell Drugg's unfortunate child. She was halfway down the hill before she heard a quick step behind her and knew, without turning, that it was Nelson Haley. CHAPTER XXX WHAT THE ECHO MIGHT HAVE HEARD "What's your hurry, Janice?" demanded the young teacher, coming to her side, smiling. Then he saw her wet lashes and exclaimed: "My dear girl! you are crying?" "Not--not now," said Janice, shaking her head and her voice catching a little as she spoke. "Tell me what is the matter?" begged Nelson. "Who's hurt you?" "They're not those sort of tears, Nelson!" she cried, with a quivering little smile. "Oh, I ought to be just the very happiest girl alive!" "And in tears?" "Tears of joy, I tell you," she declared. "Not weeping over the lost motor car, then?" "Oh, my goodness! No! How could one be so foolish with such a dear, dear letter as I've got here. A regular _love_ letter, Nelson Haley!" The young man's face changed suddenly. It looked very grim, and he caught at her hand which held little Lottie's letter. "What's that?" he demanded, so gruffly that Janice was quite astonished. "Why, Nelson Haley! What's the matter?" she asked, looking at him with wide-open eyes. "Who's been writing to you, Janice?" he asked, huskily. "I will show it to you. It is too, too dear!" exclaimed the girl, again half sobbing. "Read it!" The teacher spread out the crumpled page. The look of relief that came into his face when he saw Lottie's straggling pen-tracks was not at all understood by Janice. He read the child's letter appreciatively. She saw the tears flood into his own eyes as he gently folded the letter and handed it back. "Why, Janice," he said, at last. "What's a motor car to _that_?" "That's what I say," she cried, and laughed. "Come on! let's tell it to Lottie's echo. We'll see if it is still lurking in the dark old spruce trees over yonder on the point." She darted ahead of him and reached the ruined wharf where Lottie had stood when first Janice had seen her. In imitation of the child she raised her voice in that weird cry: "He-a! he-a! he-a!" Back came the imitation, shot out of the wood by the nymph: "'E-a! 'e-a! 'e-a!" "Ha, ha!" laughed the girl. "There's Lottie's echo." "'A!" laughed the echo. "'Ere's Lottie's echo!" Nelson, flushed and breathing rather heavily, reached the old dock. "What a girl you are, Janice!" he said.