let herself sink against his breast. "But oh, I did so want to be
happy!--and you made me do it."

He gave her a quick squeeze, and chuckled: "You bet I made you!" he
said; he pushed her gently to her feet, and got up and walked about the
room, his hands in his pockets. "As for Mrs. Houghton, you'll love her.
She never fusses; she just says, 'Consider the stars.' I do hope you'll
like them, Eleanor," he ended, anxiously. He was still in that state of
mind where the lover hopes that his beloved will approve of his friends.
Later on, when he and she love each other more, and so are more nearly
one, he hopes that his friends will approve of his beloved, even as he
used to be anxious that they should approve of him. "I do awfully want
you to like 'em at Green Hill! We'll go the minute your school closes."

"_Must_ we?" she said, nervously.

"I'm afraid we've got to," he said; "you see, I must find out about ways
and means. And Edith would be furious if we didn't come," he ended,
chuckling.

"Is she nice?"

"Why, yes," he said; "she's just a child, of course. Only eleven. But
she and I have great times. We have a hut on the mountain; we go up for
a day, and Edith cooks things. She's a bully cook. Her beloved Johnny
Bennett tags on behind."

"But do you like to be with a _child_?" she said, surprised.

"Oh, she's got a lot of sense. Say, Nelly, I have an idea. While we are