; every one was talking of
her, but to her horror, was connecting Ranald's name with her's in a
most significant way. It was too awful, and if her Aunt Frances should
hear of it, the consequences would be quite too terrible for her to
imagine. She must stop the talk at once. Of course she meant to be kind
to Ranald; he had done her great service, and he was her Aunt Murray's
friend, and besides, she liked him; how much she hardly cared to say to
herself. She had liked him in Glengarry. There was no doubt of that, but
that was two years ago, and in Glengarry everything was different! There
every one was just as good as another, and these people were all her
Aunt Murray's friends. Here the relations were changed. She could not
help feeling that however nice he might be, and however much she might
like him, Ranald was not of her world.

"Well, tell him so; let him see that," said Kate, with whom Maimie was
discussing her difficulty.

"Yes, and then he would fly off and I--we would never see him again,"
said Maimie. "He's as proud as--any one!"

"Strange, too," said Kate, "when he has no money to speak of!"

"You know I don't mean that, and I don't think it's very nice of you.
You have no sympathy with me!"

"In what way?"

"Well, in this very unpleasant affair; every one is talking about Ranald
and me, as if I--as if we had some understanding."

"And have you not? I thought--" Kate hesitated to remind Maimie of
certain confidences she had received two years ago after her friend had
returned from Glengarry.

"Oh, absurd--just a girl and boy affair," said Maimie, impatiently.

"Then there's nothing at all," said Kate, with a suspicion of eagerness
in her voice.

"No, of course not--that is, nothing really serious."

"Serious? You mean you don't care for him at all?" Kate looked straight
at her friend.

"Oh, you are so awfully direct. I don't know. I do care; he's nice in
many ways, and he's--I know he likes me and--I would hate to wound him,
but then you know he's not just one of us. You know what I mean!"

"Not exactly," said Kate, quietly. "Do you mean he is not educated?"

"Oh, no, I don't mean education altogether. How very tiresome you are!
He has no culture, and manners, and that sort of thing."

"I think he has very fine manners. He is a little quaint, but you can't
call him rude."

"Oh, no, he's never rude; rather abrupt, but oh, dear, don't you know?
What would Aunt Frank say to him?"

Kate's l