she was with him she almost believed she loved him, but at any rate she
need not decide now. Three months hence she might know her own mind.

"Well, we'll wait three months and see what happens; and meantime I do
hope you'll be careful not to quarrel with Dixon."

"I shall if he comes in my way," declared Tom, sturdily. "I don't
wonder he wants you himself--any man would; but he should play fair."

"He's no quarrel with you; he said you were a decent sort of a lad, the
other day."

Tom clenched his fist involuntarily. "That's just it!--he's always
trying to run me down in your eyes. A lad, indeed! I'm a man who
wants the same girl he does, and that's yourself, Rose."

Rose laughed gaily; it was nice to find herself so much in request.

"Man or boy, I can't stay talking to you all day. Pick me any roses
there are, and let me go. I believe" (in a lowered undertone) "that I
hear the ladies talking up there on the bowling-green. They've come
out to sit in the shade, I expect."

Rose's conjecture was right, for, as she went back to the house, she
caught a glimpse of Miss Webster and her mother seated under the large
tree at the far end of the lawn.

"How pretty she is," said May Webster, following her retreating figure
with lazy eyes. "As pretty as the roses she carries. I do hope she
won't get snapped up at once. She is a pleasant little thing to have
about one--which reminds me, mother. I saw a pretty girl of a
different type in the village yesterday, whom I believe to be Miss
Lessing. What are you going to do about her and her brother?"

"Nothing at present, I think. One really can't leave cards on a
cottage!"

"But you might on the people in it. We can't very well ignore the
squire of the place who is also our landlord."

"It will be time enough to recognize him when he behaves like other
people."

"I don't see that he's a bit more peculiar than the University men who
take to slumming. Anybody may do anything nowadays," May said with a
little laugh.

"He doesn't even come to church," persisted Mrs. Webster.

"A weakness shared by many men."

"But his sister might and _ought_," replied her mother, severely.

"Mr. Curzon seems to think it equally necessary for men and women,"
said May, mischievously.

"Oh yes. Of course he's a dear good man, and I wish we were all like
him, but we aren't," answered Mrs. Webster, resigning all hope of
anything but moral mediocrity with a gentle sigh.