XV. LOVE OR LOYALTY

XVI. MOPPET MAKES A DISCOVERY

XVII. A KNOT OF ROSE-COLORED RIBBON






CHAPTER I

MISS MOPPET


It was a warm summer day. Not too warm, for away up in the Connecticut
hills the sun seemed to temper its rays, and down among the shadows of
the trees surrounding Great Pond there were cool, shady glades where one
could almost fancy it was May instead of hot July.

At a point not far from the water, leaning against the trunk of a
stately maple, stood a young man. His head, from which he had raised a
somewhat old and weather-beaten hat, was finely formed, and covered with
chestnut curls; his clothes, also shabby and worn, were homespun and
ill-fitting, but his erect military carriage, with an indescribable air
of polish and fine breeding, seemed strangely incongruous in connection
with his apparel and travel-worn appearance.

"I wonder where I am," he said half aloud, as he surveyed the pretty