“Do you mean that’s what you think they’ll do?” she questioned. “I don’t know—it’s a thought that came to me. But it seems foolish, too. Well, we’ll find out in the morning. And now you must be getting to bed. How about the beauty sleep?” “Beauty sleep, indeed!” cried Mamie, tossing her head. “I don’t need any beauty sleep!” “No, you don’t!” agreed Allan, gazing at the piquant face. “Do you know, Mamie, you’re growing up into the prettiest girl imaginable!” “Growing up!” echoed Mamie. “I’ve grown up! Why, I’m nearly seventeen!” “A tremendous age!” “Old enough to know you’re talking nonsense!” she retorted, but with the colour coming and going in her cheeks. “I’m not!” he protested. “It’s true! If I was younger, Mamie, I’d be falling in love with you!” “Younger!” “I’m twenty-seven.” “A tremendous age!” she echoed, glancing up at him. “Ten years older than you!” “Pooh! What’s ten years?” “Well, it’s a good deal,” said Allan, rising with an effort. “And I feel considerably older than twenty-seven to-night—more like forty! You can keep on sitting up, if you want to, but I’m going to bed. Good-night.” Mamie had risen too, a strange light in her eyes. She watched him as he turned away, and then, when his hand was on the knob of the door, she called him. “Allan.” “Yes?” he said, turning and looking at her. The lamplight sent little mocking shadows across her face and brought out the glint of gold in her hair. He held on to the door-knob to keep from going back to her. “Promise me you’ll not run into any danger,” she said, softly. “Of course I won’t—not unless I have to.” “Not even if you have to!” “What—run away?” he demanded, staring at her in astonishment. “You wouldn’t have me do that, Mamie?” “No,” she said, “I wouldn’t have you do that! Good-night, Allan.” “Good-night,” he repeated, and opened the door and went resolutely up the stair to his room. And Mamie, standing listening until the sound of his steps died away, at last flung herself down upon the lounge and buried her face in her arms. Her eyes were wet with tears—but they were tears of joy. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XIX THE OLD STONE HOUSE