uch. I've been through it and I know."

[Sidenote: Face to Face]

With that, she sailed triumphantly out of the room, closing the door
with a bang which had in it the sound of finality. Poor Miss Matilda
gazed dreamily out of the window, treasuring the faint, fragrant memory
of her lost romance. "If Rosemary has got a beau," she said to herself,
"I hope she won't let Ma scare him away from her."

At the post-office, Rosemary met Alden, face to face. She blushed and
stammered when he spoke to her, answered his kindly questions in
monosyllables, and, snatching _The Household Guardian_ from the
outstretched hand of the postmaster, hurried away.

Presently he overtook her. "Please, Rosemary," he said, "give me just a
minute. I want to talk to you. I haven't seen you for a long time."

"Yes?" She stopped, but could not raise her eyes to his face.

"I can't talk to you here. Come on up the hill."

"When?" The girl's lips scarcely moved as she asked the question.

"Now. Please come."

"I'll--I'll have to go home first, with this," she replied, indicating
the paper. "Then I'll come."

"All right. I'll go on ahead and wait for you. Shall I tie the red
ribbon to the tree?" He spoke thoughtlessly, meaning only to be
pleasant, but the girl's eyes filled. She shook her head decisively and
neither of them spoke until they reached the corner where she must turn.

[Sidenote: Waiting for Rosemary]

"Good-bye," she said.

"Auf wiedersehen," he replied, lifting his hat. "Don't be long."

Always, before, it had been Rosemary who waited for him. Now he sat upon
the log, leaning back against the tree, listening to the chatter of the
squirrels and the twitter of little birds in the boughs above him. It
was not yet noon, and the sunlight made little dancing gleams of
silver-gilt on the ground between the faint shadows of the leaves. He
waited for her in a fever of impatience, for in his pocket he had a
letter for Edith, addressed in a dashing masculine hand.

Not so long ago, in this same place, he had asked Rosemary to marry him.
Now he must ask her to release him, to set him free from the bondage he
had persisted in making for himself. He made a wry face at the thought,
unspeakably dreading the coming interview and, in his heart, despising
himself.

Rosemary did not keep him waiting long. When she came, she was flushed
and breathless from the long climb--and something more. She sank down
upon the seat he indicated--her old