Ruth had heard from Cecile Shepard since she had gone back to the preparatory school--in fact, had received two letters. They were not such bright epistles as Cecile usually wrote; but they were full of her brother. Not that Cecile mentioned Luke's differences with Neighbor, or the reason thereof; but she seemed unable to keep from writing about Luke. Ruth was secretly as anxious to hear about the young man as his sister was to write about him. Ruth was heart-hungry. She felt that Luke might have taken her into his confidence to a greater degree; and yet she suspected why he had not done so. Mr. Howbridge's talk of dowries for the sisters was always in Ruth's mind. Of course, she knew that the Stower estate was rapidly increasing in value. In a few years property that Peter Stower had purchased for a song would be worth a fortune. The Kenways were likely to be very rich. What if Luke Shepard had no money when he graduated from college? That seemed a very small thing to Ruth. She would have plenty when she came of age, and why could not her money set Luke up in some line of business that he was fitted for? Yet, there was a whisper in her heart that told Ruth that was not the right way to begin life. If Luke was ambitious he must find a better way. Nor could she help him, it seemed, in the least, for the young man had given her no right to do so. "Oh, dear me," Ruth finally decided, "it is awfully hard being a girl--sometimes!" No such questions and doubts troubled Agnes and Neale. Their course through life seemed a smooth road before them. They told each other their aspirations, and everything they planned to do in the future--that glorious future after school should end--had a part for each in it. Neale O'Neil did not hope to do anything in life which would shut Agnes out; and the girl's thought marched side-by-side with his intentions. Everything hereafter was to be in partnership. "For you know, Neale, no matter what Ruth says, I really couldn't get along without you." "Crickey!" exclaimed the boy, "this old world certainly would be what Unc' Rufus calls 'de valley ob tribulation' if you weren't right here with me." She smiled upon him gloriously, and used that emphatic ejaculation that always horrified Ruth: "You bet!" "You're a good pal, Aggie," said the boy, with feeling. "And since that morning I first saw you and we both tumbled out of the peach tree," Agnes declared solemnly--"do you remember, Neale?" "I should say I did!" "Well, I _thought_ you were awfully nice then. _Now_, I know you are." So, perhaps Agnes and Neale were growing up, too. CHAPTER XXIII THE MAD DOG SCARE