They walked on a few moments in silence. Then George began soberly: "Of course, Ellen, you know I'm only a farmer and you know you've always said you'd never live in the country." "George, don't remind me of all the foolish things I've said! Please, don't! Why, if I could go to the country this minute, I'd go and never come back! I hate the city! I wish I'd never have to see it again!" George gasped an incredulous, "Really, Ellen? Do you really mean it?" "Yes, really!" Ellen declared vehemently and George, untroubled to account for this sudden revulsion of feeling, threw up his head with a joyous laugh. When they reached home, George said to Ellen: "Don't you want to sit out here on the porch a little while?" Nobody invited Rosie to stay. She hesitated a moment, then said primly: "Good-night, everybody." [Illustration: She read it again by the light of the candle.] "Good-night," they chorused politely, as they might to any stranger. Rosie started in, then turned back. "And, Jarge, I forgot to tell you about Monday afternoon. I'm sorry I can't go with you but Tom Sullivan invited me first." "That so?" George said, and from his tone, Rosie knew that he didn't understand what she was talking about. Worse still, he wasn't interested enough to find out. Rosie dragged herself slowly upstairs. In the bedroom, when she felt for matches, she discovered that her hand was still clutching the note which George had given her earlier in the evening. She read it again by the light of the candle. "_... Say, kid, I'm just crazy about you!..._" Jackie turned over in his sleep and Rosie hastily blew out the candle for fear he should open his eyes and see her tears. She groped her way to bed in the dark and wept herself miserably to sleep. CHAPTER XXXV ELLEN MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT The next morning at breakfast Ellen declared herself. She addressed her mother, but what she had to say was for the whole family. "I just want to tell you, Ma, I'm done with stenography forever. 'Tain't my line and I know it and I should have known it long ago. Now you needn't argue because that's all there is about it." Mrs. O'Brien looked at Ellen blankly. "Why--why, Ellen dear," she stammered, "what's this I hear you saying?" Ellen repeated her announcement slowly and distinctly. "But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien protested, "how can you talk so and the beautiful way you've been getting on and the beautiful way Mr. Hawes has been treating you? And what will Mr. Hawes say--poor, kind-hearted gentleman that he is! Oh, Ellen dear, with your fine looks and your fine education I beg you not to throw it all away!" Mrs. O'Brien mopped her eyes with her apron and pleaded on. It did not occur to her to ask the reason for Ellen's sudden decision. After all, sudden decisions were merely characteristic of Ellen. Terence, however, peered at his sister sharply.