k to her at the "Celebration" had indicated indifference
or forgetfulness. But now that was all forgotten; every nerve in her
body quivered with happiness.

He, however, at once interpreted her silence to mean that he had
wounded her. "Forgive me for speaking so lightly of what to you must be
a sacred and serious matter. God knows, my own experience--which, as
you say, was not unlike your own--was sufficiently serious to me. But
somehow, I can't take THIS seriously--this matter of your pretty curls!"

"Sometimes I wonder whether you take any person or any thing, here,
seriously," she half smiled. "You seem to me to be always mocking at us
a little."

"Mocking? Not so bad as that. And never at YOU, Tillie."

"You were sneering at Miss Spooner, weren't you?"

"Not at her; at Christopher Columbus--though, up to the time of that
celebration, I was always rather fond of the discoverer of America. But
now let us talk of YOU, Tillie. Allow me to congratulate you!"

"What for?"

"True enough. I stand corrected. Then accept my sincere sympathy." He
smiled whimsically.

Tillie lifted her eyes to his face, and their pretty look of
bewilderment made him long to stoop and snatch a kiss from her lips.
But he resisted the temptation.

"I refer to your engagement to Absalom. That's one reason why I wanted
you to come out here with me this afternoon--so that you could tell me
about it--and explain to me what made you give up all your plans. What
will your Miss Margaret say?"

Tillie stopped short, her cheeks reddening.

"What makes you think I am promised to Absalom?"

"The fact is, I've only his word for it."

"He told you that?"

"Certainly. Isn't it true?"

"Do YOU think so poorly of me?" Tillie asked in a low voice.

He looked at her quickly. "Tillie, I'm sorry; I ought not to have
believed it for an instant!"

"I have a higher ambition in life than to settle down to take care of
Absalom Puntz!" said Tillie, fire in her soft eyes, and an unwonted
vibration in her gentle voice.

"My credulity was an insult to you!"

"Absalom did not mean to tell you a lie. He has made up his mind to
have me, so he thinks it is all as good as settled. Sometimes I am
almost afraid he will win me just by thinking he is going to."

"Send him about his business! Don't keep up this folly, dear child!"

"I would rather stand Absalom," she faltered, "than stand having you go
away."

"But, Tillie," he turned almost fiercely upon h