ght of her!

"Oh, George, how you must hate me!" she murmured brokenly.

"Hate you!" George protested breathlessly. "Why, kid, I'm just crazy
about you!"

Rosie, listening, caught her breath sharply. Her phrase, which she had
laboured hard to teach him! But where had he got the deep vibrating tone
with which he spoke it? Rosie had never heard that before.

After a moment, Ellen quavered: "Even--even yet, George?"

"Even yet!" George cried in the same wonderful voice that sent little
thrills up and down Rosie's back. "Why, Ellen girl, don't you know that
ever since the first day I saw you you've been the onliest girl for me!"

His arm was around her now, straining her to him, and Rosie knew, but
for her own presence, he would be kissing her.

"I--I don't see why, George."

"But it's so, Ellen, it's so!"

They walked on a few moments in silence. Then George began soberly: "Of
course, Ellen, you know I'm only a farmer and you know you've always
said you'd never live in the country."

"George, don't remind me of all the foolish things I've said! Please,
don't! Why, if I could go to the country this minute, I'd go and never
come back! I hate the city! I wish I'd never have to see it again!"

George gasped an incredulous, "Really, Ellen? Do you really mean it?"

"Yes, really!" Ellen declared vehemently and George, untroubled to
account for this sudden revulsion of feeling, threw up his head with a
joyous laugh.

When they reached home, George said to Ellen: "Don't you want to sit out
here on the porch a little while?"

Nobody invited Rosie to stay. She hesitated a moment, then said primly:
"Good-night, everybody."

[Illustration: She read it again by the light of the candle.]

"Good-night," they chorused politely, as they might to any stranger.

Rosie started in, then turned back. "And, Jarge, I forgot to tell you
about Monday afternoon. I'm sorry I can't go with you but Tom Sullivan
invited me first."

"That so?" George said, and from his tone, Rosie knew that he didn't
understand what she was talking about. Worse still, he wasn't interested
enough to find out.

Rosie dragged herself slowly upstairs. In the bedroom, when she felt for
matches, she discovered that her hand was still clutching the note which
George had given her earlier in the evening. She read it again by the
light of the candle. "_... Say, kid, I'm just crazy about you!..._"
Jackie turned over in his sleep and Rosie hastily blew out the