ooked wildly around. She wanted to run away, but Barry Wallace
was holding her hand very tight.

"That--I'll work better if--that--oh, I'm just glad you came back," and
Nancy could not have said anything more, for her face was smothered
against Barry's shoulder.

After a little, Barry had to hear all about the rejected manuscript,
the master's letter and the redemption of the Hopworth's. There in the
sun-lit orchard a golden world seemed to stretch around them.

"How foolish we used to be," laughed Nancy, with a rapturous sigh. "I
never doubted but that my first play was going to make my fortune."

"And I, after facing death in every one of its worst forms, ran away
from a pack of fussy women," added Barry.

"Never mind, let's bury those two children out here under the apple
trees and begin real work----"

"Together."

"Finding the little things to do in our very own corner," added Nancy,
dreamily.

Across the twilight stillness came the familiar whistle that had been
the special signal among the three chums at college.

"It's the girls," cried Nancy. "Let's go back. I can't bear to have
them come here--just now. It's--it's----" she blushed, but met his
eyes squarely. "I want this to be--just ours--for awhile."

As they walked slowly back to the house, Nancy stopped suddenly in the
path.

"Doesn't Happy House look beautiful?" she whispered. And in fact the
fading glow of the sun was touching the old walls with a shadowy beauty.

"It seems to speak to one," added Nancy. She was thinking of that
other Anne Leavitt who had come there bravely intent upon building a
happy home in the heart of the wilderness. Though she said not a word,
in her heart she was making a solemn pledge--that she and Barry, would
add, through useful lives, their bit to the traditions of Happy House
and the little Island, traditions rich with bravery, sacrifice and
loyalty.

Again came the girls' whistle--insistent. Nancy slipped her hand into
Barry's.

"Let's hurry."

Hand in hand they went along the path to the house--and to their future
together. As they reached, the edge of Jonathan's raspberry patch
Nancy turned with shining eyes and whispered: "Pals."

And Barry, teasingly recalling Nonie's pet plan, answered tenderly:
"Dearest."

_There is the high, happy spirit of youth in these famous_

BOOKS FOR GIRLS

by JANE D. ABBOTT

BARBERRY GATE

A boy flyer opened the Barberry Gate, closed since the da