round.

What she said was certainly true. Rosalind herself did not exactly
understand it. She knew only that there had been some reason why her
father had not visited his old home for many years. She wondered if these
girls knew more about it than she.

"You see, you are something new," Belle added, laughing. "Didn't Miss
Celia scold us that morning, Katherine?"

"Why, no, Belle, she didn't exactly scold," said Katherine.

"She didn't throw back her head and frown and say 'Young ladies, I am
amazed!'"--here Bell gave an excellent imitation of Mrs. Graham's
manner--"so you don't call it scolding. She just said, 'Girls, I don't
know what to think!' and we felt as mean! I love Miss Celia."

"So do I," echoed Katherine.

"Is she one of your teachers?" Rosalind asked.

"Yes; she is Miss Celia Fair. She teaches drawing and sometimes keeps
study hour, and she is as sweet as she can be," Belle concluded, with
enthusiasm.

The name brought to mind one of Rosalind's greatest puzzles,--the
hillside, the young lady who looked as if she might be as Belle described
her--sweet; the strange incident of the rose, and Aunt Genevieve's words,
"We have nothing to do with the Fairs."

"I saw her once," she remarked gravely.

"I forgot the Fairs and the Whittredges don't speak. Perhaps you know
about it," said Belle.

Rosalind shook her head.

"I think it was about the will; wasn't it, Katherine? Mrs. Whittredge
wanted to break it because she thought Mr. Gilpin was crazy, but Dr. Fair
said he wasn't, and testified in court."

Rosalind listened with interest. "Isn't Dr. Fair dead?" she asked.

"Yes. He used to be our doctor, and I liked him so much."

"The Fairs have lost all their money now, so Miss Celia has to teach and
do all sorts of things," Katherine remarked.

"Her name belongs to the Forest," thought Rosalind, looking at the
ripples, Belle had thrown herself back and was gazing at the sky from
under her hat brim; Katherine was busy with a collection of pebbles; the
stillness was broken only by the hum of insects and the murmur of Friendly
Creek. Suddenly Rosalind seemed to hear with perfect distinctness what it
said,

"Be fr-ie-nds, be fr-ie-nds," with a little trill on the words.

From experience she knew very little of unfriendliness. All this about
quarrels and having nothing to do with people was new to her. As she
considered it she remembered that Oliver hated Orlando, and Rosalind's
uncle had treated her