"But you _look_ mighty wise. I'd sooner a body'd speak right out than to look so wise; I would _so_, Isa." "Ah, Gracie. I could tell a heap of things I reckon; but no good--you wouldn't believe a word." "Speak out," said Grace, severely, as she proceeded to curl a dandelion stem. "Ahem! Remember that time you had the oyster supper at your house, don't you, Gracie? Well, did you stay in the room with the company? I always wanted to know." "Yes, Isa, part of the time. Why?" Isa rolled her eyes, and looked unutterable things. "O, nothing, only Mrs. Hallock was there, you know. Ahem! Well, next day, Mrs. Hallock said to her husband, and Cassy was right there in the room--" Isa hesitated. It seemed to be her painful duty to stop. "Do go on," said Grace. "If it's ever so bad I want to hear it." "I just happened to think, Gracie, dear, you haven't promised not to tell." "And I'll not promise any such thing, Isa," cried Grace, spiritedly. "Then I've said all I'm going to," replied Isa, folding her arms in a hard knot. "But you're not going to leave off right in the middle! Now, Isa, that's not fair." "Well, no more it isn't fair for you not to promise." By this time they had nearly reached Captain Clifford's, for Isa had walked a long distance out of her way to accompany Grace. "Isa Harrington, I think you might tell." "Gracie Clifford, I think you might promise." "Isa, I'd never dare. 'Twould fly out of my lips when I saw Cassy, and I couldn't help it. Don't make me tell a lie!" Grace ate her dinner that noon in silence. What dreadful thing could Mrs. Hallock have said to her husband? "Nothing much, I reckon; Cassy wouldn't go and tell stories about me! I'll trust Cassy as long as I live." Grace twirled her regard-ring about her finger. "I'd be crazy if I believed my best friend was false!" Still the thought troubled her. Grace had asked Cassy's views regarding the prize. To her it seemed a thousand pities that Cassy should have gone away, and so missed all chance of it. Cassy's reply was just like her. She didn't care her little finger for the prize. "It wouldn't probably be worth more than five dollars, any way; and as she had five dollars already, what could she want of any more?" She didn't see why Grace should want it, either; but if she did, Cassy hoped she'd get it. "If Mahla feels badly, you can give her something," added Cassy, sagely. Grace pondered over this letter for some time. It was short and to the purpose, for its writer never wasted words. Grace fancied, too, that it was rather cool; but every time a doubt tried to creep into her mind, she shut it out, saying to herself,-- "Cassy's my dear friend: I'll trust Cassy as long as I live."