"Yes," she continued, "after all it won't be so dreadful, will it? I can buy lots of nice things, and I shall have servants. And I can go all over the world. No more washing up. And there'll be parties and dances. And Mr. Irvine said something about estates. I suppose I'll have a country house--like people in books. Yes, and I'll marry some one with a title, and wear diamonds. Do you think somebody with a title would marry me, Seth?" "Maybe, if you asked him." "Oh!" "Wal, you see it's only fine ladies gits asked by fellers as has titles." The dense Seth felt easier in his mind at the girl's tone, and in his clumsy fashion was trying to join in the spirit of the thing. "Thank you, I'll not ask any one to marry me." Seth realized his mistake. "Course not. I was jest foolin'." "I know." Rosebud was smiling, and a dash of mischief was in her eyes as she went on-- "It would be awful if a girl had to ask some one to marry her, wouldn't it?" "Sure." Seth moved out into the passage; the last horse was bedded down, and they stood together leaning on their forks. "The man would be a silly, wouldn't he?" "A reg'lar hobo." "What's a 'hobo,' Seth?" "Why, jest a feller who ain't got no 'savee.'" "'Savee' means 'sense,' doesn't it?" Rosebud's eyes were innocently inquiring, and they gazed blandly up into the man's face. "Wal, not exac'ly. It's when a feller don't git a notion right, an' musses things up some." They were walking toward the barn door now. Seth was about to go up to the loft to throw down hay. "Same as when I got seein' after the Injuns when I ought to've stayed right here an' seen you didn't go sneakin' off by y'self down by the river," he added slyly, with one of his rare smiles. The girl laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh, Seth!" she cried, as she moved out to return to the house, "then you're a regular 'hobo.' What a joke!" And she ran off, leaving the man mystified. Rosebud and the lawyer left the following morning. Never had such good fortune caused so much grief. It was a tearful parting; Ma and Rosebud wept copiously, and Rube, too, was visibly affected. Seth avoided everybody as much as possible. He drove the conveyance into Beacon Crossing, but, as they were using the lawyer's hired "democrat," he occupied the driving-seat with the man who had brought the lawyer out to the farm. Thus it was he spoke little to Rosebud on the journey. Later, at the depot, he found many things to occupy him and only time to say "good-bye" at the last moment, with the lawyer looking on. The girl was on the platform at the end of the sleeping-car when Seth stepped up to make his farewell. "Good-bye, little Rosebud," he said, in his quiet, slow manner. His eyes were wonderfully soft. "Maybe you'll write some?" The girl nodded. Her violet eyes were suspiciously bright as she looked frankly up into his face. "I hope we shall both be happy. We've done our duty, haven't we?" she asked, with a wistful little smile.