paper," he said comfortably. "Don't go,
Warren--it's early yet, Rich."

Rosemary found her favorite low rocker and the boys chose the swing.

"We'll miss this," said Warren slowly.

"Yes, we haven't any swing at Ag State," declared Richard with a grin.

"You know what I mean, well enough," retorted Warren. "Confabs,
music--being inside a home."

Richard was silent. He knew.

"Mother says she asked you to write to her," broke in Rosemary. "She
says we'll never forget this dear little house at Rainbow Hill and the
friends we've made this summer."

"Have you found your pot of gold, Rosemary?" asked Richard, watching
the light which threw the outline of the girl's pretty head into relief.

Rosemary laughed a little. Early in the summer Mrs. Hildreth had
explained that the name "Rainbow Hill" had been given the farm by Mrs.
Hammond because the first time she had seen the house its roof had been
spanned by a beautiful rainbow. The Willis girls had waited hopefully
two months for a glimpse of a rainbow, but none had been vouchsafed
them. Sarah, for one, believed the rainbow to be as mythical as the
pot of gold Mrs. Hildreth had told her was always to be found at its
end.

"I don't believe I've found any pot of gold," said Rosemary wistfully.

"Oh, yes, you have," contradicted Warren. "Look at the Gays--you
helped them find their pot of gold; look at Miss Clinton--you gave her
many happy hours; look at Mrs. Hildreth--she says she never knew a
summer to go so quickly and it's all because she has had someone
cheerful to talk to her. Look at Rich and me--"

"Oh, Warren!" Rosemary protested. "Sarah did more for the Gays than
ever I did. And Mother and Winnie talked to Mrs. Hildreth. I haven't
done anything."

"It's your pure joyousness, I think," went on Warren as though he had
not heard her. "I don't believe enough people are simply happy in this
world. That's your pot of gold, Rosemary--happiness. And you share it
with everyone you meet. It makes a fellow feel--well, as though he
were standing on a mountain top in the morning, just to look at you."

"Oh!" said Rosemary softly, astonished at quiet Warren and yet oddly
pleased, too. "Oh!"

"You're even glad to go back to school, aren't you, Rosemary?" asked
Richard with a half unconscious sigh. Going back to school for him,
and for Warren, meant much hard work and more anxiety.

The dreamy light went out of the girl's eyes. Her lovely, vivid fac