ng too much on a short acquaintance, but it's a mighty
important thing for me. It's about that little gal over there."

"Patty?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Nobody else. There _ain't_ anybody else, so far as I'm concerned;
meaning no disrespect to you, Princess. My old friend the Honourable
says she just worships you, and would lie down and let you walk over
her if you wanted."

"I didn't know," I said.

"Well, it's gospel truth, I guess, and I don't blame her. If you----"

"She has been _sweet_ to me," I interrupted. "Why, what do you think
she did, when I mentioned that the huge bells on Mr. Jacobsen's cows
kept me awake nights? You know how that one field of Mr. Jacobsen's,
which he won't sell, comes into Mr. Trowbridge's farm, and he keeps his
cows there to be disagreeable? Well, Patty got up in the night, and
climbed on the fence and caught the cows by offering them salt. Then
she held on by their ears, and tied rags over their bells--horrid, loud
bells--so they could make no noise. Only fancy, and some of those cows
are awfully fierce. The rags have stopped on ever since; that was the
way I found out, for she didn't tell for days."

"It's just like that pretty, quiet little thing," said Mr. Walker. "I
wish she'd be that sweet to me. I want her mighty bad to have me,
Princess, but she's read novels, I guess, and anyhow, she doesn't think
I'm romantic enough. I was always kind of afraid there was somebody
else. Now I shouldn't wonder if it ain't that good-looking young cousin
of the Trowbridges. Couldn't you find out for me, as she thinks such a
lot of you? And if she hasn't got her heart too much set on anybody
else, could you try to use your influence for me? You see, you're a
travelled lady, though you're so young, and if you could say I was a
man, in your opinion, it might make all the difference."

"You can depend on me to do my best," I said. But I didn't feel amused
and full of fun any more, as I looked over at Patty and Mr. Brett. If
she admires him--and how could she help it?--there's no reason why he
shouldn't admire her, when one comes to think of it. She is pretty and
sweet, a perfect little lady, and an heiress.

I can't get used to the idea. The cowbells didn't ring at all last
night, but I couldn't sleep for thinking of it, and for telling myself
that perhaps this is why Mr. Brett looked queer when I spoke of Patty
marrying a farmer.

XIX

ABOUT GETTING ENGAGED

I felt when I got up