Can you take the day?"

Anne's "crowd," the half-dozen good friends among the many
acquaintances she had formed in the city, were invited for a day in the
country. She and Burt now talked it over, agreeing to meet in time to
take the nine-thirty train, with the others.

But at nine, next morning, Burt had not appeared at the studio; instead,
Miss Gilbert had a telephone message that Mr. Winchester was delayed,
but would call as soon as possible. It was unlike Burt, but Anne,
sensibly, supposed that business had intervened, and, removing her hat,
was glad to remember that she had not definitely accepted the invitation
when it was given. The "crowd" were sure enough of each other and of
themselves to appear casual: Burt and she could take a later train, and
have just as warm a welcome.

At nine-thirty Burt appeared, explaining briefly, "Best I could do.
There's a train in twenty minutes, we'll catch it if we hurry."

Anne hurried, which proved to be unnecessary, as the train seemed late
in starting; during the trip there was little conversation, as Anne was
tactful, and Burt preoccupied.

"Branton!" called the conductor, at least it sounded like Branton, Burt
came out of his revery with a start, and Anne followed him down the
aisle. They stood a moment upon the platform of the quiet little station
and watched the train pull out; as they turned back into what seemed the
principal street, Anne craned her neck to look around an inconvenient
truck piled with baggage, and made out the sign, Byrnton.

"Oh, Burt, what were we thinking of?" she exclaimed. "This isn't the
right place at all! We were to take the road up past a brick church--and
there isn't any here--this is Byrnton, and we wanted Branton. What shall
we do--why don't you say something?"

"Fudge!" said Burt, soberly, but in his eyes the dancing light he
reserved for Anne. "I'll ask the ticket-agent."

He came out of the station, smiling. "This isn't the Branton line at
all, but a short branch west of it," he informed her. "We took the wrong
train, but he says lots of people make the same mistake, and they are
going to change one name or the other, eventually. I am to blame, Nan,
for I know this place, Byrnton; I have, or used to have, an Aunt Susan
here, somewhere--shall we look her up? We have nearly three hours to
kill. It will be afternoon before we can get to Branton--and Aunt Susan
will give us nourishment, at least, if she's home."

"Very well," Anne