ightest degree indicate how I
felt toward her. But I believe I loved her the second day I met her, and
I am not sure it did not begin the day before."

"I think that sort of thing is always quick work where Olive is
concerned," said Mrs. Easterfield. "I think it likely that many young
men have fallen in love with her, and that they have to be very lively
if they want a chance to tell her so. But don't be jealous. I know
positively that none of them ever had the slightest chance. But now all
that is passed. I know she is tired of an unsettled life, and it is
likely she may soon be thinking of marrying, and there will be no lack
of suitors. She has them now. But I want her to marry you."

"Mrs. Easterfield," exclaimed Dick, "you have known me but a very little
while----"

"Don't mention that," she interrupted. "I do quick work as well as other
people. I never before engaged in any matchmaking business, but if this
succeeds, I shall be proud of it to the end of my days. You are in love
with Olive, and she is worthy of you. I want you to try to win her, and
I will do everything I can to help you. Here is my hand upon it."

As Dick held that hand and looked into that face a courage and a belief
in himself came into his heart that had never been there before. By day
and by night his soul had been filled with the image of Olive, but up to
this moment he had not thought of marrying her. That was something that
belonged to the future, not even considered in his state of inchoate
adoration. But now that he had been told he had reason to hope, he
hoped; and the fact that one beautiful woman told him he might hope to
win another beautiful woman was a powerful encouragement. Henceforth he
would not be content with simply loving Olive; if it were within his
power he would win, he would have her.

"You look like a soldier going forth to conquest," said Mrs. Easterfield
with a smile.

"And you," said he impulsively, "you not only look like, but you are an
angel."

This was pretty strong for the young professor, but the lady understood
him. She was very glad, indeed, that he could express himself
impulsively, for without that power he could not win Olive.

As Dick started away from Broadstone on his walk to the toll-gate he
heard quick steps behind him and was soon overtaken by Claude Locker.

"Hello," said that young man, "if you are on your way home I am going to
walk a while with you. I have not done a thing to-day."

Whe