“You, Miss Barlow, you!” Bell exclaimed, forgetting in her astonishment to carry to her mouth the luscious half peach she had intended for that purpose, and dropping it untasted into the pan, while Katy, who had been listening with considerable interest, came quickly forward saying, “You, Aunt Betsy! when were you in New York, and why did I never know it?” It could not be kept back and, unmindful of Bell, Helen explained to Katy as well as she could the circumstances of Aunt Betsy’s visit to New York the previous winter. “And she never let me know it, or come to see me, because—because—” Katy hesitated, and looked at Bell, who said, pertly, “Because Will is so abominably proud, and would have made such a fuss. Don’t spoil a story for relation’s sake, I beg,” and the young lady laughed good-humoredly, restoring peace to all save Katy, whose face wore a troubled look, and who soon stole away to her mother, whom she questioned further with regard to a circumstance which seemed so mysterious to her. “Miss Barlow,” Bell said, when Katy was gone, “you will forgive me for repeating that story as I did. Of course I had no idea it was you of whom I was talking.” Bell was very earnest, and her eyes looked pleadingly upon Aunt Betsy, who answered her back, “There’s nothing to forgive. You only told the truth. I did make an old fool of myself, but if I helped that boy to a right decision, my journey did some good, and I ain’t sorry now if I did go to the play-house. I confessed that to the sewing circle, and Mrs. Deacon Bannister ain’t seemed the same towards me since, but I don’t care. I beat her on the election to first directress of the Soldier’s Aid. She didn’t run half as well as me. That chap—you call Bob—is he anything to you. Is he your beau?” It was Bell’s turn now to blush and then grow white, while Helen, lightly touching the superb diamond on her first finger, said, “That indicates as much. When did it happen, Bell?” Mrs. Cameron had said they were not a family to bruit their affairs abroad, and if so, Bell was not like her family, for she answered frankly, “Just before he went away. It’s a splendid diamond, isn’t it?” and she held it up for Helen to inspect. The basket was empty by this time, and as Aunt Betsy went to fill it from the trees, Bell and Helen were left alone, and the former continued in a low, sad tone, “I’ve been so sorry sometimes that I did not tell Bob I _loved_ him, when he wished me to so much.”