g sweet,
day by day. It is like a garden full of wonderful flowers that no one
can guess until they bloom."

"Then thou wilt not hinder him again? His father's heart hath grown
tender toward him, and I can persuade if I have this surety to go upon."

"And then--dost thou hope to marry him?"

"I hope for nothing, Miss Impertinence. I only want that Andrew shall be
restored."

A willful mood came over Primrose. What if she did not promise?

"There is little dependence on thee, I see. I was a fool to think it.
Girls like thee play with men's hearts."

Rachel turned away with a bitter curl of the lip, and held her head up
determinedly.

"Oh, Rachel, if that will help, I promise. If thou wilt do thy best to
soften Uncle James. I care not so much that he shall regard me with
favor. I have many to love me."

Rachel turned back a step, caught the round arm and held it up.

"Promise," she cried, almost fiercely.

"I promise," Primrose said solemnly.

"That is in the sight of God. Thou wilt be a very wicked girl to break
it."

"I shall not break it. Oh, Rachel, do thy best to restore peace. For to
Andrew it would be great joy."

Then she went over to Jerry, who helped her into the saddle. The girls
curiously enough had not said good-by to each other. Rachel had gone
into the house.

"I did it for the best," she was thinking to herself. "There should be
peace between them, for Uncle James acts strangely sometimes. And then
if Andrew hath any gratitude--perhaps soft measures may conquer. His
mother wishes for the marriage as well."

Primrose seemed in no haste and the ride was long. She was annoyed that
Rachel should talk of her marrying. And her brother, she remembered, had
confessed a half-formed plan of wedding her to Gilbert Vane. Why could
not everybody let her alone? Madam Wetherill never spoke of it, and she
was glad.

Where was Gilbert Vane? And oh, where was her poor brother? The soft
wind cooled her cheeks and the longing brought tears to her eyes.

"How late thou hast stayed," said Madam Wetherill with tender chiding.
"I hope nothing was amiss?"

"Oh, no, dear madam. The air was so fine that I loitered. And the dark
seems to fall suddenly when it does come."

"Thou must change thy habit and come to supper. Put on a jacket and
petticoat, and afterward one of thy best gowns, for there is to be some
young company. Pamela Trumbull sent word 'That she would come with a
host of cousins, and thou must