ok her parasol, holding out a hand to help, as she evidently
meant to occupy her seat without delay.

[Illustration: "YOUR SISTER IS COMING?" HE SAID.]

[Sidenote: "Your Sister is Coming?"]

"Your sister is coming?" he said.

"She doesn't like to leave Grannie. So you'll have to do with me alone,"
smiled Mittie. "Such a pity, this splendid day! I did my best to
persuade her--but she wouldn't be persuaded."

There was an abrupt pause. Even Mittie's self-complacency could not veil
from her his changed face, his blank disappointment.

In that moment she very fully realised the truth that Joan, and not
herself, was the one really wanted. But she smiled on resolutely,
careless of what Fred might think about Joan's motives, and bent on
making a good impression.

"It's the first time I've been to your house--oh, for months and months!
I'm _so_ looking forward to a whole day there. And being rowed down the
river is so awfully delightful. I did try my hardest to get Joan to
come, too; but she simply wouldn't, and she asked me to explain."

This only made matters worse. Fred could hardly avoid believing that
Joan's absence was due to a wish to avoid him. In Mittie's mind lay a
scarcely acknowledged fear that, if she were more explicit, Fred might
insist on seeing Joan; and, in that event, that she might herself be in
the end the one left behind. She was determined to have her day of fun.

Ferris had grown suddenly grave. He made Mittie comfortable in her seat,
cast loose, and took the oars; but he seemed to have little to say.

Almost in complete silence they went to The Laurels. Mittie's repeated
attempts at conversation died, each in succession, a natural death.

When Mary Ferris appeared, surprise was again shown at the sight of
Mittie alone. Mary Ferris did not take it so quietly as her brother had
done. She was naturally blunt, and she put one or two awkward questions
which Mittie found it not easy to evade.

The hour on that lovely river, to which she had looked forward as
delightful, proved dull.

Fred Ferris had nothing to say; he could not get over this seeming snub
from Joan. He attended silently to his oars, and somehow Mittie had not
courage to suggest that she would very much like to handle one of them.
Mary was politely kind, and talked in an intermittent fashion; but the
"fun" on which Mittie had counted was non-existent.

When they reached the landing-place and stepped out Mrs. Ferris stood on
the