"Oh, John Stevens, why do you frighten us like that?" called Ellen. "Come here and give an account of yourself. Where have you been since you left us in the canyon, and what did you leave us so unceremoniously for?" "Business, business," answered the young man, entering the room as he spoke. "What are you all doing here, winding yarn as peacefully and calmly as if there were nothing of more importance on earth." "Well, is there anything of more importance, John?" asked Tom Allen. "Think of it, man, holding yarn for the prettiest girl in Salt Lake. I know what ails you, you have no yarn to hold. Here, Aunt Clara, give him some yarn to hold, and there is Ellen. She can wind up that slow-moving tongue of his at the same time." "The yarn around and round she slung To make him loose his sluggish tongue," cried Charlie Rose, tauntingly. "Oh, John, do tell us the news. Don't bother with Tom and Charlie; tell us the news," Ellen persisted. "If Aunt Clara will give me one of her dough-nuts, I will tell all the news I have to tell." "Why don't you say that you will tell all there is to tell, John; you are so non-committal?" chimed in Diantha, who understood how much and how little might be expected in the way of telling or talking from John Stevens. Aunt Clara went out and brought in a pan of dough-nuts and a pitcher of milk, which kept the young people too busy for a few minutes to talk anything but nonsense. "If I could find a girl that could make as good dough-nuts as you can, Aunt Clara," said Tom Allen, with his mouth half-full of cake, "I would marry her tomorrow." "Would you, indeed," cried Ellen Tyler. "Then you must learn that catching comes before hanging. I made those dough-nuts myself, young impudence, while Aunt Clara was fitting my dress to wear up in the canyon." "Ellie, I shall certainly have to take you as my wife. You know that I have already been engaged several times. But you shall have the privilege of being my very last sweetheart. The last is best, you know, of all the game. You are second to none in the matter of dough-nuts. Please, Ellie, give me another fried cake." "Another plate-full, you mean. I certainly shall not accept your offer, for if I did I should have nothing else to do the rest of my life but fry dough-nuts for you." "Ellie, haven't you heard that the nearest way to a man's heart is--" "Oh, don't say such horrid things. We all know where your heart lies, Tom, so don't bother to tell us," said Dian, with a disgusted air.