Grandma Castle and the Chadwicks wanted to remain until New Year's, so the girls got no real vacation. Several automobile parties had now found their way to the house on the hill, and the old-fashioned viands, the huge rooms, open fires, and all the "queer" furniture induced them to return from time to time. So Lyddy and 'Phemie decided to be prepared for such parties, or for other people who wished to board for a week or so at a time, all winter. Mr. Bray had grown so much stronger by now that sometimes he expressed his belief that he ought to go back to the shop and earn money, too. "Wait till next season, Father," Lydia urged him, softly. "We can all pull together here, and if we have only a measure of good fortune, we shall be independent indeed by _next_ fall." The prospect was surely bright--as bright as that which lay before Lyddy and Harris Colesworth one Indian summer day as they strolled down the lane to the highroad. "I don't see how Aunt Jane can find this place lonely," sighed Lyddy, leaning just a little on the young man's arm, but with her gaze sweeping all the fair mountainside. "_You_ couldn't leave it, Lyddy?" he asked, with sudden wistfulness. "No, indeed! Not for long. No other place would seem like _home_ to me after our experience here. It's more like home than the house I was born in at Easthampton. "You see, we have struggled, and worked, and accomplished something here--'Phemie and I. And Aunt Jane says it shall some day be ours--all of Hillcrest. I love it all." "Well--I don't blame you!" exclaimed Harris, suddenly swinging about and seizing her hands. "But, say, Lyddy! don't be stingy about it." "Stingy--about what?" she asked him, rather frightened, but looking up into his sparkling eyes. "Don't be stingy with Hillcrest. If you are determined to stay here--all your life long--you know---- Don't you suppose you could find it in your heart to let _me_ come here and--and stay, too?" Nobody heard Lyddy Bray make an audible reply to this--not even the curious squirrel chattering in the big beech over their heads. But Harris seemed to see just the reply he craved in the girl's eyes, for he cried, suddenly: "You _dear_, you!" Then they walked on together, side by side, over the carpet of flame-colored leaves.