e church
in, Mother Shaw!" she protested with spirit.

Her mother looked up from her mending. "Why, dear? It is her regular
day."

"Couldn't she do it, I wonder, on an irregular day! Anyhow, if she
had, I shouldn't have to go to The Maples this afternoon. Must I take
a trunk, mother?"

"Hilary! But what has Jane to do with your going?"

"Pretty nearly everything, I reckon. Must I, mother?"

"No, indeed, dear; and you are not to go at all, unless you can do it
willingly."

"Oh, I'm fairly resigned; don't press me too hard, Mother Shaw. I
think I'll go tell Paul now."

"Well," Pauline said, "I'm glad you've decided to go, Hilary. I--that
is, maybe it won't be for very long."

CHAPTER II

THE MAPLES

That afternoon Pauline drove Hilary out to the big, busy, pleasant
farm, called The Maples.

As they jogged slowly down the one principal street of the sleepy, old
town, Pauline tried to imagine that presently they would turn off down
the by-road, leading to the station. Through the still air came the
sound of the afternoon train, panting and puffing to be off with as
much importance as the big train, which later, it would connect with
down at the junction.

"Paul," Hilary asked suddenly, "what are you thinking about?"

Pauline slapped the reins lightly across old Fanny's plump sides. "Oh,
different things--traveling for one." Suppose Uncle Paul's letter
should come in this afternoon's mail! That she would find it waiting
for her when she got home!

"So was I," Hilary said. "I was wishing that you and I were going off
on that train, Paul."

"Where to?" Paul asked. After all, it couldn't do any harm--Hilary
would think it one of their "pretend" talks, and it would he nice to
have some definite basis to build on later.

"Anywhere," Hilary answered. "I would like to go to the seashore
somewhere; but most anywhere, where there were people and interesting
things to do and see, would do."

"Yes," Pauline agreed.

"There's Josie," Hilary said, and her sister drew rein, as a girl came
to the edge of the walk to speak to them.

"Going away?" she asked, catching sight of the valise.

"Only out to the Boyds'," Pauline told her, "to leave Hilary."

Josie shifted the strap of school-books under her arm impatiently.
"'Only!'" she repeated. "Well, I just wish I was going, too; it's a
deal pleasanter out there, than in a stuffy school room these days."

"It's stupid--and you both know it,"