She was still thinking of the ten dollars he had handed to the driver
of the run-about. It had given them twenty minutes of pleasure, and it
seemed unimaginable that anyone should be able to buy amusement at that
rate. With ten dollars he might have bought her an engagement ring; she
knew that Mrs. Tom Fry's, which came from Springfield, and had a diamond
in it, had cost only eight seventy-five. But she did not know why the
thought had occurred to her. Harney would never buy her an engagement
ring: they were friends and comrades, but no more. He had been perfectly
fair to her: he had never said a word to mislead her. She wondered what
the girl was like whose hand was waiting for his ring....

Boats were beginning to thicken on the Lake and the clang of incessantly
arriving trolleys announced the return of the crowds from the
ball-field. The shadows lengthened across the pearl-grey water and two
white clouds near the sun were turning golden. On the opposite shore men
were hammering hastily at a wooden scaffolding in a field. Charity asked
what it was for.

"Why, the fireworks. I suppose there'll be a big show." Harney looked at
her and a smile crept into his moody eyes. "Have you never seen any good
fireworks?"

"Miss Hatchard always sends up lovely rockets on the Fourth," she
answered doubtfully.

"Oh----" his contempt was unbounded. "I mean a big performance like
this, illuminated boats, and all the rest."

She flushed at the picture. "Do they send them up from the Lake, too?"