At Aunt Comfort's, however, no signs of love troubles were visible; in fact, no signs of any sort, except the malicious "hanging around" interference of Hannah whenever Ray was there. She seemed to feel it her duty to remain on guard at such times, much to Ray's disgust. No annoyance at this was apparent in Chip. She helped at housework, studied at odd hours, and when Ray came she met and talked with him as if he were a brother. The day he was to leave Greenvale was close at hand, however, and the evening before he came early, bringing his banjo, and by tacit consent, perhaps to escape Hannah, they both left the house at once. Just above the village there was a long, narrow pond, wooded upon one side and around its upper end, with partially cleared land and scattered trees along the opposite bank. One of these trees was a monster beech near the water's edge, the trunk of which was scarred by many entwined initials. To this lovers' trysting tree now came Ray and Chip. The evening was not one for romance, for no moon graced it--only stars were reflected from the pond's motionless surface, while fireflies twinkled above it. The shadow of the near parting also hovered over these two as, hand in hand, they picked their way up and along the bank; and once seated beneath the tree, it seemed to forbid speech. "I wish you'd play some of the songs you used to," Chip said at last hurriedly, "I'd like to think I'm back at the lake again." Glad to do so, Ray drew out his banjo and began to tune it. He started a song also--one of the "graveyardy" ones which Old Cy had interdicted, but choked at once and stopped abruptly. "I can't sing to-night," he said, "I'm too blue about going away." There were two in this frame of mind, evidently, for Chip made no protest, and for another long interval they watched the fireflies and listened to the whippoorwills. "I wish you were going back with us," Ray said at last. "It breaks my heart to go away so soon and leave you. Why won't you let me ask my uncle to take you? He might be glad to do it, just for me." "No," answered Chip, firmly, "you mustn't. It would shame me so that I couldn't look them in the face." Then, as if this subject and their own feelings must be avoided, she added hurriedly, "Tell me what you will do when the folks come back--whether you will come with them or stay at the lake?" "Stay there, I suppose," answered Ray, somewhat doggedly, for money-making and love were in conflict. "Old Cy says we can make a lot of money if I will. I wish I were rich," he added with a sigh.