"A little, yes." Ruth was unusually quiet, and there was a far-away look
in her deep blue eyes.

"Oh, don't take it so seriously," rallied Alice, in her vivacious way,
though at first she, too, had been affected by what she read.

"But it is serious."

"Oh, it may be only one of those 'newspaper yarns,' as Russ calls them."

"Alice, your language, of late--"

"There, sister mine! Please don't scold--or lecture. I'm too sleepy," and
she finished with a yawn that showed all her white, even teeth.

"I'm not scolding, my dear, but you know I must look after you in a way,
and--"

"Look after yourself, my dear. With your hair down that way, and that
sweet and innocent look on your face, and in your eyes--you are much more
in need of looking after than I. Someone is sure to fall in love with
you, and then--"

"Alice, if you--"

"Don't throw that hair brush at me!" and the younger girl covered herself
with a quilt, in simulated fear. "I--I didn't mean it. I'll be good!" and
she shook with laughter.