ame, Rachel Melrose--asked
me when I was coming back. I assured her, never, and then courteously
added if she would come to Kansas.

"Well, I may go," she replied, "not to your Springvale, but to my aunt
in Topeka for a visit next Fall. Will you come up to Topeka?"

Of course, I would go to Topeka, but might she not come to Springvale?
There were the best people on earth in Springvale. I could introduce her
to boys who were gentlemen to the core. I'd lived and laughed and
suffered with them, and I knew.

"But I shouldn't care for any of them except you." Rachel's voice
trembled and I couldn't help seeing the tears in her proud dark eyes.

"Oh, I've a girl of my own there," I said impulsively, for I was always
longing for Marjie, "but Clayton Anderson and Dave Mead are both college
men now." And then I saw how needlessly rude I had been.

"Of course I want you to come to Springvale. Come to our house. Aunt
Candace will make you royally welcome. The Baronets and Melroses have
been friends for generations. I only wanted the boys to know you; I
should be proud to present my friend to them. I would take care of you.
You have been so kind to me this year, I should be glad to do much for
you." I had taken her hand to say good-bye.

"And you would let that other girl take care of herself, wouldn't you,
while I was there? Promise me that when I go to Kansas you will come up
to Topeka to see me, and when I go to your town, if I do, you will not
neglect me but will let that Springvale girl entirely alone."

I did not know much of women then--nor now--although I thought then I
knew everything. I might have read behind that fine aristocratic face a
supremely selfish nature, a nature whose pleasure increased only as her
neighbor's pleasure decreased. There are such minds in the world.

I turned to her, and taking both of her willing hands in mine, I said
frankly: "When you visit your aunt, I'll be glad to see you there. If
you visit my aunt I would be proud to show you every courtesy. As for
that little girl, well, when you see her you will understand. She has a
place all her own with me." I looked straight into her eyes as I said
this.

She smiled coquettishly. "Oh, I'm not afraid of her," she said
indifferently; "I can hold my own with any Kansas, girl, I'm sure."

She was dangerously handsome, with a responsive face, a winning smile
and gracious manners. She seemed never to accept anything as a gift, but
to take what wa