"I’m sure it does matter," I said. "If you go away I shall certainly feel as though I’m the one who ought to have gone." "I don’t believe I ought to stay here talking with a man who thinks he doesn’t know me." "I’m a very stupid person, I fear," I said. "I’m afraid some people would say so," she said with another mischievous look, though her face was perfectly grave; "but I shouldn’t dare." "I’m on the lookout for a good bargain," I said desperately. "I should like very much to exchange names with you." "Oh, that wouldn’t be a fair exchange at all," said the girl, shaking her head gravely. "I know Mr. Hampden’s name already. You must offer a better bargain than that." "Then I must sue for pardon for a treacherous memory," I said. "It’s a very serious matter," said the girl, "but I’ll give you three chances to guess. If that’s not enough, you’ll have to ask uncle." "Miss Laura--Miss Kendrick!" I exclaimed. "Oh, did I tell you, after all?" she cried in dismay. "I said uncle, didn’t I? Now, you see, I’m quite as stupid as other people." "Indeed, no," I said. "It’s quite unpardonable that I should have forgotten." "It ought to be, but I’m afraid I shall have to forgive you," she said, dropping into a chair. "It’s a longish time." "How many years has it been?" I asked. "I’m afraid you’re adding to your offenses," she said, with a shake of the head. "You should certainly remember that it was five years ago this summer." "Have you been away so long?" I exclaimed. "Oh, dear! what shall I do with such a man? First he doesn’t remember me at all, and then he doesn’t know how many years I’ve been gone, and then he has no idea it was so long." "But you were only a little girl then," I urged. "And not worth noticing, would you say if you dared? I used to think I was quite grown up in those days." "You didn’t--er--quite give the impression." "I see I didn’t make one," she said. "It’s a very good lesson for one’s vanity, isn’t it?" "And haven’t you been back in all these years?" "’All these years’ sounds better," she said. "I believe you are learning. I’ve been back twice, if you want your question answered." "It was kept quite a secret." "Oh, dear, no! Everybody knew who cared anything about knowing." "And where have you been, and what doing?" "I was in the East. First I finished the seminary." "And then?" "Then I went through college." "Indeed?" "Oh, you needn’t be so surprised. It’s nothing so very wonderful. You didn’t suspect it from my looks?" "You certainly don’t look like a blue-stocking." "I’m afraid I’m not. I never could get enough into my head at one time to be worthy of such a title. I believe a blue-stocking is a lady who has a great deal of learning." "Or at least," I said, "is very fond of showing it." "Oh, I think I have her main characteristic then," laughed my companion. "If I know anything I can’t rest till I let somebody else know about it, too."