nto a story that Alice Page's
beau was worth a million, and that she was engaged to him.

As might be expected, the subject of all this gossip heard none of it
until the storm had reached alarming proportions. Some of the village
swains who had tried to pay court to her and failed were inclined to
sneer at the "smart young man from the city" who had cut them out; but
the older people and the girls were disposed to congratulate her upon
what they considered her good luck. It was this inclination that led
Mrs. Mears to be the first one to tell the extent of the gossip.

"They tell me," said that worthy matron to Alice one Sunday, after
church, "that you ain't likely to teach school after this summer."

"And why not?" answered Alice, conscious that she was likely to hear a
choice bit of gossip; "don't I give satisfaction?"

"Oh, 'tain't that," was the answer; "I guess you can imagine the reason
and I want to be the first to congratulate you. They tell me he's worth
a pile o' money, an' he's sartinly well favored, so far as looks goes,
but then, 'handsome is as handsome does' was allus my motto."

Alice colored.

"Do you mean Mr. Nason, my brother's friend?" she said nervously.

"Why, who else would I mean?" responded Mrs. Mears. "I've heard that you
was to be married this fall, and that he is worth a million. They say he
told Amos Curtis he was, though I don't believe that, but anyway, Amos
says he gave him five dollars 'jest fer usin' his old boat that wa'n't
worth splittin' up for kindlin's!'"

It was all out now, and in a moment Alice saw through the whole story
and up to its source. For one instant she felt as if the entire town
was staring at her, and grew correspondingly red. It was unfortunate,
for several besides Mrs. Mears were observing her and drew their own
conclusions. As for the worthy gossiper who had enlightened Alice, the
blush she saw rise on her cheeks and spread until it glowed all over her
face and throat was confirmation enough.

"It's not true, not one word of it," exclaimed Alice angrily, "and if
you care for me one bit, I wish you would tell everybody I said so."

She waited to hear no more, nor for Aunt Susan, who had lingered to chat
with some one, but walked home alone and hurriedly, as if to hide
herself. Once in the silent house, she began to cool off.

"I won't believe he told Amos he was worth a million," she said to
herself,--"he isn't so stupid as that; but I am afraid the silly