"I haven't heard anything from him all day,--and I thought--" "You won't hear anything more of him, Betty, my dear. I've seen your Mr. Vernon, and a very nice young man he is, too. He's frightfully cut up about having got you into a row, and he sees that the only thing he can do is to go quietly away. I needn't tell you, Betty, though I shall have to explain it very thoroughly to your father, that Mr. Vernon is no more in love with you than you are with him. In fact he's engaged to another girl. He's just interested in you as a promising pupil." "Yes," said Betty, "of course I know that." CHAPTER VII. THE ESCAPE. "It's all turned out exactly like what I said it was going to, exactly to a T," said Mrs. Symes, wrapping her wet arms in her apron and leaning them on the fence; "if it wasn't that it's Tuesday and me behindhand as it is, I'd tell you all about it." "Do the things good to lay a bit in the rinse-water," said Mrs. James, also leaning on the fence, "sorter whitens them's what I always say. I don't mind if I lend you a hand with the wringing after. What's turned out like you said it was going to?" "Miss Betty's decline." Mrs. Symes laughed low and huskily. "What did I tell you, Mrs. James?" "I don't quite remember not just at the minute," said Mrs. James; "you tells so many things." "And well for some people I do. Else they wouldn't never know nothing. I told you as it wasn't no decline Miss Betty was setting down under. I said it was only what's natural, her being the age she is. I said what she wanted was a young man, and I said she'd get one. And what do you think?" "I don't know, I'm sure." "She did get one," said Mrs. Symes impressively, "that same week, just as if she'd been a-listening to my very words. It was as it might be Friday you and me had that little talk. Well, as it might be the Saturday, she meets the young man, a-painting pictures in the Warren--my Ernest's youngest saw 'em a-talking, and told his mother when he come home to his dinner." "To think of that, and me never hearing a word!" said Mrs. James with frank regret. "I knew it ud be 'Whistle and I'll come to you, my lad,'" Mrs. Symes went on with cumbrous enjoyment, "and so it was. They used to keep their rondyvoos in the wood--six o'clock in the morning. Mrs. Wilson's Tom used to see 'em reg'lar every day as he went by to his work." "Lor," said Mrs. James feebly. "Of course Tom he never said nothing, except to a few friends of his over a glass. They enjoyed the joke, I promise you. But old George Marbould--he ain't never been quite right in his head, I don't think, since his Ruby went wrong. Pity, I always think. A great clumsy plain-faced girl like her might a kept herself respectable. She hadn't the temptation some of us might have had in our young days." "No indeed," said Mrs. James, smoothing her hair, "and old George--what silliness was he up to this time?"