y, of course. I feel very well to-day, and I shall be glad to sit
by the window and read," said Dorothy.

"Here's a book. I got it off last year's Christmas tree, but I ain't
had no time to read it." She handed Dorothy a volume bound in red and
inscribed "Myrtle and Ivy." There was nothing to show whether it was
an agricultural guide, a spiritual retreat, or a love song.

"It's a pretty book," said Dorothy, "and I am sure I shall enjoy it."

"Yes, then I'll be off. Only let me tell you one thing dear," and the
woman came up very close to Dorothy, "you must promise me not to try
to get away until I can take you to the station. Josh has the wagon."

"All right," replied Dorothy with an amused smile. "Why should I try
to get away?"

"Don't know, dear, only I must have your promise."

Dorothy felt queer--she had reason to be grateful to Mrs. Hobbs, and
to give a promise would involve an obligation. Yet she must make her
escape. Some disturbance downstairs saved the girl further anxiety on
the question of the promise. Mrs. Hobbs ran down to the door, and she
did not return.

The summer morning hours sent in their greeting through the small
window that opened above the porch. Dorothy was nervous, she must
leave just as soon as she saw Mrs. Hobbs disappear over the hill, when
she would be out of the sight of the house. And her purse was gone!
Well, once out on the clear roadway, surely some one would befriend
her. What a dreadful thing it was to be a prisoner! And not to know
why she was imprisoned! Her beautiful hair had not been combed in two
days. Dorothy did the best she could to make it smooth with her side
comb, but the depth of the hair, and the size of the comb, made the
matter of actual hair-dressing a difficult task. But there was fresh
water in the basin, and she could wash, which was one comfort. "If
only I had my purse," she thought, "with my little looking glass.
Well, it will scarcely matter how I look--so long as I do not attract
attention."

As if Dorothy could help attracting attention!

Mrs. Hobbs's generous form had dropped behind the hill. There was
nothing to wait for now, Dorothy must get out of that window.

The window frame was that sort that runs to the roof and has not far
to go. It was really not half a window, but it was large enough for
the girl's slim form to slip through. It was no distance to the roof,
then she could slide down the post.

Dorothy was out. She sat upon the roof and