"I can't say, Joe. Perhaps always." As he watched the soft curls at the nape of her neck, the thought came to him that only owls and prairie dogs find lodgment in the same hole with a rattlesnake; whereupon the youth ceased to question and announced as a fact of noteworthy interest, "So long as nobody is dead, there is always a way to mend things." There was a suspicion of moisture in her eyes when she turned to him and said, "Joe Curtis, you are certainly a cheerful somebody." "Why shouldn't I be? I might have been killed in the accident and I wasn't. Now I'm nearly well." Into his optimism came tenderness, as he whispered, "Best of all, I met you." "Was it worth it?" She was moody for the moment. "You bet your life," he exclaimed. "Aren't you glad that you met me?" Her eyes answered him. After a moment, he went on. "Will you tell me where you are going, Virginia?" "I am going to Maine. To Old Rock." "Old Rock, Maine!" he shouted in surprise. "Yes. Why not?" "It is near the home of my mother. The place is so small that it seems strange that, with all of the rest of the world to go to, you should be going there." Virginia arose from the bench and came over by his chair. "Good bye, Joe," she said, very softly. "I hope that you will soon be well." A sad little face looked down at him. "Please, forgive me for hurting you. I am so sorry." Her lips trembled. "Forget it," he said roughly; but there was that in his face which contradicted his tone. "I ran into you." "We can't agree, can we?" she said thoughtfully, and her voice broke as she continued, "I want to ask a favor of you, Joe." "Sure." He eyed her expectantly. "Will you see that the room--is nicely arranged?" "You bet I will." "When I am gone there will be no one to care--but you." She fought back the tears and put up a brave front. "Good bye, Joe." "Wait a minute," he commanded. She reached for his hand and repeated, very sweetly, very softly, "Good bye, Joe." She moved away a few steps; but turned back to cry very tenderly, "Good bye, Joe." "Come back, please, Virginia," wailed Joe. She hesitated, battling with tears. "Please, come back, Virginia. Remember, I am helpless. I can't come after you." She retraced her steps. "What is it?" she asked, her averted gaze apparently interested in the street beyond the grounds. "Perhaps this is not good bye." She looked at him now with great interest. He seized her hand and drew her closer to the chair, smiling up into her face, as he explained, "It may not be good bye for us, because--if I were quite sure that you wanted to see me--I might come up to Old Rock." She smiled at him. It was as if storm clouds had broken and let the rays of the sun through. "Oh, Joe," she cried, "it would be lovely if you came up. Old Rock seems to be a dreadfully lonesome place."