own-stairs, eat her
bread and milk at the table, and, afterward, to wash the dishes.

She continued to borrow books from the school library, however, and
later from Alden Marsh. When he learned that she dared not read at
night, for fear of burning too much oil, he began to supply her with
candles. Thus the world of books was opened to her, and many a midnight
had found her, absorbed and breathless, straining her eyes over the last
page. More than once she had read all night and fallen asleep afterward
at the breakfast table.

[Sidenote: Occasional Meetings]

Once, long ago, Alden had called upon her, but the evening was made so
unpleasant, both for him and his unhappy hostess, that he never came
again. Rosemary used to go to the schoolhouse occasionally, to sit and
talk for an hour or so after school, but some keen-eyed busy-body had
told Grandmother and the innocent joy had come to an abrupt conclusion.
Rosemary kept her promise not to go to the schoolhouse simply because
she dared not break it.

The windows of the little brown house, where the Starrs lived, commanded
an unobstructed view of the Marshs' big Colonial porch, in Winter, when
the trees between were bare, so it was impossible for the girl to go
there, openly, as Mrs. Marsh had never returned Aunt Matilda's last
call.

Sometimes Alden wrote to her, but she was unable to answer, for
stationery and stamps were unfamiliar possessions; Grandmother held the
purse-strings tightly, and every penny had to be accounted for. On
Thursday, Rosemary always went to the post-office, as _The Household
Guardian_ was due then, so it happened that occasionally she received a
letter, or a book which she could not return until Spring.

At length, the Hill of the Muses became the one possible rendezvous,
though, at the chosen hour of four, Rosemary was usually too weary to
attempt the long climb. Moreover, she must be back by six to get supper,
so one little hour was all she might ever hope for, at a time.

[Sidenote: Far Above Her]

Yet these hours had become a rosary of memories to her, jewelled upon
the chain of her uneventful days. Alden's unfailing friendliness and
sympathy warmed her heart, though she had never thought of him as a
possible lover. In her eyes, he was as far above her as the fairy prince
had been above Cinderella. It was only kindness that made him stoop at
all.

When the school bell, sounding for dismissal, echoed through the valley
below, Rosema