ere was a tinge of irony in his tone that
Phil did not miss. "What's left here--house, barn, and land--belongs to
me. The town house has been sold and Charlie and Ethel have come out
here to say good-bye to the farm."

"Oh!"

This time Phil's "Oh" connoted mild surprise, polite interest, and faint
curiosity.

The wind rustled the leaves among the corn-shocks. The moon gazed
benevolently upon the barn, tolerant of the impertinence of man-made
light and a gayety that was wholly inconsonant with her previous
knowledge of this particular bit of landscape.

Fred Holton did not amplify his last statement, so Phil's "Oh," in so
far as it expressed curiosity as to the disposition of the Holton
territory and Mr. Frederick Holton's relation to it, seemed destined to
no immediate satisfaction.

"I must skip," remarked Phil; though she did not, in fact, skip at once.

"Staying over at your grandfather's?" The young man's arm pointed toward
the north and the venerable farmhouse long occupied by tenants of the
Montgomerys.

Old Amzi had acquired much land in his day and his grandson, Amzi III,
clung to most of it. But this little availed Phil, as we shall see.
Still it was conceivable and pardonable that Fred Holton should assume
that Phil was domiciled upon soil to which she had presumably certain
inalienable rights.

"No; I've been camping and my father's waiting for me down there in
Turkey Run. We've been here a month."

"It must be good fun, camping that way."

"Oh, rather! But it's tough--the going home afterwards."

"I hate towns myself. I expect to have some fun out here."

"I heard this farm had been sold," remarked Phil leadingly.

"Well, I suppose it amounts to that. They were dividing up father's
estate, and I drew it."

"Well, it's not so much to look at," remarked Phil, as though the
appraisement of farm property were quite in the line of her occupations.
"I've been across your pasture a number of times on my way to Uncle
Amzi's for milk, but I didn't know any one was living here. One can
hardly mention your farm in terms of grandeur or splendor."

Fred Holton laughed, a cheerful, pleasant laugh. Phil had not thought of
it before, but she decided now that she liked him. His voice was
agreeable, and she noted his slight drawl. Phil's father, who was born
in the Berkshires, said all Hoosiers drawled. As a matter of fact,
Phil, who was indubitably a Hoosier, did not, save in a whimsical
fashion of her ow