"Oh," he said, under his breath, "isn't this great!"

The exquisite peace of the forest was like that of another
sphere. "Yes," she answered, softly, "it is beautiful."

"You're evading the original subject," he suggested, a little
later.

"I haven't had a chance to talk," she explained. "You've done a
monologue ever since we left the house, and I listened, as
becomes inferior and subordinate woman. I have never seen my
venerated kinswoman, and I don't see how she happened to think of
me. Nevertheless, when she wrote, asking me to take charge of her
house while she went to Europe, I gladly consented, sight unseen.
When I came, she was gone. I do not deny the short skirt and
heavy shoes, the criticism of boiled coffee, nor the disdain of
breakfast pie. As far is I know, Aunt Jane is my only living
relative."

"That's good," he said, cheerfully; "I'm shy even of an aunt. Why
shouldn't the orphans console one another?"

"They should," admitted Ruth; "and you are doing your share
nobly."

"Permit me to return the compliment. Honestly, Miss Thorne," he
continued, seriously, "you have no idea how much I appreciate
your being here. When I first realised what it meant to be
deprived of books and papers for six months at a stretch, it
seemed as if I should go mad. Still, I suppose six months isn't