But Quimby, with the fear of old Fishblate, and a breach of promise suit, and a dread of explanations in his mind--moreover, having firmly decided that a little more or less of misery did not matter, could not be persuaded to take any steps himself, or allow them to be taken, to free himself from the result of his latest mistake. Therefore, it came about, to the surprise of those not in the secret, and the unconcealed exultation of one of the parties immediately concerned, that the engagement of Quimby and Celeste was announced. CHAPTER XV. ONE SUMMER DAY. The week that decided Quimby's fate so unexpectedly and brought him so much woe, to Cyn brought good tidings. Her success at the concert had been so decided that she was the recipient of many offers for the coming season, and was enabled to accept those that promised most advantageously. No one was more honestly glad than was Nattie in her congratulations; Nattie, who had fought and overcome that selfish pain and bitter wonder of hers, why Cyn should have everything and she nothing. Since the approach of summer, a much-talked of project among them had been a little picnic party in the woods, and as Clem now proposed to get it up in honor of Cyn's success, the plan was immediately carried out. Mrs. Simonson, with a feeble protest, because Miss Kling was not invited, accompanied them. The "them," of course, consisted of Cyn, Nattie, Clem, Jo, and the newly betrothed ones. Nature was kind to these seekers of her solitudes, and gave them a perfect day; one of those that occur in our uncertain climate less often than might be wished, but that penetrate everywhere with their sunshine, when they do come, even into hearts where sunshine seldom glances. So, for the nonce, our friends forgot all their little troubles; even Quimby brightening up, and ceasing to think of his engagement, as they stood underneath the green trees, by the banks of a small river; sunshine everywhere, and the music of birds in the air. "Is it not glorious?" cried Cyn, like a child, in her exuberance. "Why not camp out here, and stay all summer?" ecstatically suggested Clem, as he fondled his fishing tackle. "But it might not always be pleasant like this," said practical Mrs. Simonson. "When the sun shines we forget it may ever storm," said Jo, and looking admiringly at Cyn as he spoke. "Is our artist a philosopher, as well as all the rest we know he is?" asked Cyn, laughing. "A very little one; five feet six!" replied Jo. "Well, we will have no shadows to-day," said Cyn. "No shadows to-day!" echoed Jo; then turning to Mrs. Simonson, asked, "I hope you do not still regret Miss Kling!" "I suppose she would spoil it all!" that good lady committed herself enough to say.