"You bet I didn't! Forget him, Fan. That's all I have to say."

"But--if I only knew what it was--I must have done something--said
something-- I keep wondering and wondering. I can't help it, Jim."

There was an irrepressible sob in the girl's voice.

"Come, Fan, pull yourself together," he urged. "Here's Ellen waiting
for us by the gate. Don't for heaven's sake give yourself away. Keep
a stiff upper lip, old girl!"

"Well, I thought you two were never coming!" Ellen's full rich voice
floated out to them, as they came abreast of the Dix homestead
nestled back among tall locust trees.

The girl herself daintily picked her way toward them among the weeds
by the roadside. She uttered a little cry of dismay as a stray branch
caught in her muslin skirts.

"That's the sign of a beau, Ellen," laughed Fanny, with extravagant
gayety. "The bigger the stick the handsomer and richer the beau."

"What made you so late?" inquired Ellen, as all three proceeded on
their way, the two girls linked affectionately arm in arm; Jim Dodge
striding in the middle of the road a little apart from his
companions.

"Oh, I don't know," fibbed Fanny. "I guess I was slow starting to
dress. The days are so long now I didn't realize how late it was
getting."