“And do you like your work, Miss Snyder?” he asked, casually. “Yes--and no,” she replied, thoughtfully. “I want to earn some money to pay my debts, but I shall be dreadfully sorry to leave your mother.” John started; he had not considered this possibility. He had taken it for granted that the girl would remain with his mother as long as she had the cottage. “Leave mother?” he repeated. “But why should you?” “Why, I don’t know. I never thought of anything else.” “But you’re such company for her!” objected the young man. “And you needn’t be under any obligations to her--you can pay board, if you wish.” “Yes, of course. But she might need the room--” “Nonsense!” interrupted John. “Nobody wants an attic room! Mother couldn’t offer it to anybody her own age, and she never has young guests. And you probably couldn’t get another so cheaply anywhere else.” “Yes, that’s true. But do you suppose she wants me?” “Of course she does! And so do I!” he added, with sincerity. Dorothy gave a little gasp, and looked sideways at her companion. Then, dropping her eyes, she remarked, quietly, “Then I can’t stay.” “You can’t stay--because we want you!” John repeated, in astonishment. “No! I mustn’t have young men friends. I’m--I’m not free!” “You mean you’re--engaged--or--married?” “No, not that!” she cried, hastily. “I--I--” her eyes filled with tears--“I can’t explain, but I’m--well--I’m just not free, that’s all!” John feared a return of her nervousness, and hated himself for making her cry. He tried to be reassuring. “My dear girl,” he said, in an almost fatherly fashion, “for that matter, I’m not really free myself. I’ve cared for one girl ever since I was in high school, and I don’t believe I’ll ever care in that way for anybody else. She doesn’t seem to think much of me; but that doesn’t matter--my feelings won’t change. So couldn’t you just sort of adopt me as a big brother, and tell me your troubles when you want to? I promise not to bother you one bit!” Dorothy looked up gratefully, and put her hand on John’s arm. She was thankful to be away from the dangerous topic of herself, and glad of the chance to accept this friendship so frankly offered. “Oh, I do thank you!” she said. “And it will mean so much to be able to go on living with your mother. But will you promise not to talk about my affairs to anybody? I’m just a girl your mother is helping!” “Why, certainly,” replied John. “Just as you wish.” Nevertheless he was mystified by her desire to hide from the world. They walked along silently for awhile; then John talked of indifferent things until Dorothy seemed quite in control of herself again. At last she said, “Can’t you tell me more about this girl? I’m so interested.” “Why, yes, of course,” replied the young man. “Only I’d rather not tell you her name.” “Naturally,” agreed Dorothy.