"I may as well tell you that in a way I think I'm rather a different fellow from the one you left last November. I see things differently. It's his doing--" He nodded toward the cottage, and Sally understood. Also, she felt infinitely thankful to the influence which had brought about this change. "I've come to see," he went on more slowly, "what it means to have a definite purpose in life beyond merely making a living and having as much of a good time as you can manage to extract. I want to make a man of myself--the sort of man my Maker intended me to be. "Ferry's doing it--Jarvis is doing it--even Alec and Bob put me to shame with the manliness they're developing. If Maxwell Lane can't swing into line--" "He can, dear--he will. He's swung already, when he can talk like this." His sister's hand squeezed his arm tight for a minute, in her happiness. "It's not going to be a matter of talk, mind you," he said earnestly. "Don Ferry doesn't talk about his own life--he lives it. I want to do the same. But I felt as if I'd like you to know--that's all. What's that coming up in the corner there?" "Lilies-of-the-valley--they're almost ready to bud." And Sally let him lead the conversation away from himself to talk about the garden, understanding that the little revelation was a great one for him to make, and that it had cost him a decided effort. But while she talked of the pruning of the roses and the prospects of the sweet peas, just sown, her heart was rejoicing over the growth in this "human garden," as Ferry had called it, so much dearer to her. "Alec's to go away next winter for a course at an agricultural school," Max announced suddenly. "I've made up my mind to that. He shows more bent than any of us toward making a science of this thing. Odd, isn't it?--where you consider how set he was against even living here. I tell you Don Ferry's a great chap. He's done more for us than we can pay back. I'd like to keep him in the family. Janet too. See here--" he rose upright from having stooped over certain newly upspringing shoots, and favoured his sister with a sharp glance. "What's the matter with you and Don hitting it off? That would leave Jarve to Janet, and make a mighty nice combination of us--eh? Judging by appearances Don wouldn't object a bit.--I say--where are you going?" "Didn't you hear the breakfast-bell?" Sally was walking away from him toward the house. "No, I didn't. Neither did you." But Sally continued to walk, regardless of the fact that both Alec and Bob had appeared round the corner of the house, coming toward her, hands in the pockets of their Sunday trousers, feet treading gingerly over the damp grass in their freshly-polished best shoes. On whatever part of Strawberry Acres Sally should be descried to-day, it might be safely prophesied that there her family would be likely to foregather. CHAPTER XX GREEN LEAVES