Helen Andrews tried to hide a scowl of irritation. Alice Webster was her friend, and she disliked having her display herself in her worst light. She knew her to be a warm-hearted, honorable girl whose gravest fault, which, after all, might be only a foible, was her tendency to turn coquettish when she was in the society of gentlemen. Ruth rose and beckoned Nan to follow her. "Isn't she a lunatic?" she demanded, as soon as they were out of ear-shot. "Perfect idiot!" responded Nan. "I should think your brother would just duck her in the water some fine day when she's making those sheep's eyes at him. I would if I were in his place." "Oh, he doesn't care. He thinks she's lots of fun. Besides, he's going away to-morrow, and won't see her again unless Helen makes her stay longer." "What'll she do for some one to make eyes at?" "Don't know. Helen generally has a lot of company, but just now there seems to be a famine in the land!" Suddenly Nan stood stock still. "What's the matter?" demanded Ruth. Nan waited a moment, and then bent over and whispered something in her ear. "Magnificent! We'll do it!" cried Ruth, clapping her hands, and breaking into a peal of laughter. "Not to-night--while your brother is here!" protested Nan. "Of course not. To-morrow though, sure. Carl will be gone and the coast clear, and meanwhile we'll drill." For the remainder of the day the girls were absorbed in something which took them to their room and kept them there, and they only appeared when dinner was announced, and the family already seated at the table. "Well, Miss Nan," Carl Andrews exclaimed, "I wish you were a boy, and I'd take you up into the mountains with me and teach you how to handle a gun." "What fun!" cried Nan. "Yes, it would be great sport, and I warrant you'd like camp-life, too. It's just the sort of thing that you'd enjoy. Only I'm afraid it would agree with you so well that you would grow an inch a week, and considering you are a girl you'd better not get any taller." "O dear! Don't say that," groaned Nan, "for I probably shall grow lots more as it is. You see I'm not quite sixteen yet. Do people ever get their growth before they are sixteen, Mrs. Andrews?" "Oh, sometimes," replied the lady kindly. "I scarcely think you will grow any more, my dear. But I wouldn't worry about it in any case if I were you." "But I don't want to tower over everybody," wailed the girl. "Just think, I'm head and shoulders above Miss Blake now!" "But Miss Blake is a 'pocket Venus!' Just as high as one's heart," said Carl Andrews. "I took her home the other night and she barely reached to my shoulder." "Then you and Nan must be about the same height!" said Helen. Nan made a grimace. "Good rye grows high!" quoted Miss Webster, good-naturedly. And then the elder Mr. Andrews, who was a little deaf, began to talk about the crops, probably thinking they had been discussing grain, since he heard the word "rye."