not an expressive youth. As he shook Ruth's hands with vigor, he
exclaimed, "Same here! Same here!" and straightway he seemed just the
Deane of old and in the girl's heart was a faint disappointment.

As a little boy people had called Deane Franklin a homely youngster. His
thick, sandyish hair used to stand up in an amazing manner. He moved in
a peculiarly awkward way, as if the jointing of him had not been
perfectly accomplished. He had a wide generous mouth that was attractive
when it was not screwed out of shape. His keen blue eyes had a nice
twinkle. His abrupt, hearty manner seemed very much his own. He was
better dressed than when Ruth had last seen him. She was thinking that
Deane could actually be called attractive in his own homely, awkward
way. And yet, as he kept shaking her hands up and down, broadly
grinning, nodding his head,--"tickled to death to be back," she felt
anew that she could not think of Deane "that way." Perhaps she had known
him too long. She remembered just how absurd he had looked in his first
long trousers--and those silly little caps he had worn perched way back
on his head! Yet she really loved Deane, in a way; she felt a great deal
nearer to him than to her own brother Cyrus.

They had gone into the living-room. Mrs. Holland thought he had
grown--grown broader, anyway; Mr. Holland wanted to know about the
medical school, and would he practice in Freeport? Ted wanted to know if
Johns Hopkins had a good team.

"That's Will, I guess," he said, turning to Ruth as the bell rang.

"Oh, Will," cried Mrs. Holland, "do ask Edith to come in and show us her
dress! She won't muss it if she's careful. Her mother told me it was the
sweetest dress Edith ever had."

Edith entered in her bright, charming way, exhibiting her pretty pink
dress with a pleasure that was winning. She had more of definite beauty
than Ruth--golden hair, really sunny hair, it was, and big, deep blue
eyes and fresh, even skin. Ruth often complained that Edith had
something to count on; she could tell how she was going to look, while
with her--Ruth--there was never any knowing. Some of the times when she
was most anxious to look her best, she was, as she bewailed it, a
fright. Edith was larger than Ruth, she had more of a woman's
development.

Mrs. Holland followed them out to the carriage. "Now don't stay until
_all_ hours," was her parting admonition, in a tone of comfortable
resignation to the fact that that was exactly w