"May I?" repeated Crawford.

"Why, I don't know. I imagine I shall be very busy most of the time."

"That's all right. If you're busy you can send word for me to vamoose.
That will be part of the bargain. Good-by."

Mrs. Wyeth's first remark, after entering, was concerning Sam's friend.

"I rather like that young person," she said. "Samuel idolizes him, of
course, but Samuel would worship a hyena if it played football. But this
Smith boy"--in Mrs. Wyeth's mind any male under thirty was a boy--"seems
to have some common sense and a mind of his own. I don't approve of his
name nor the howling wilderness he comes from, but he can't help those
drawbacks, I suppose. However, if he is to call here we must know
something about him. I shall make inquiries."




CHAPTER XII


The school term ended on a Saturday morning in mid-December. Mary's
trunk was packed and ready, and she and it reached the South Station
long before train time. She was going home, home for the holidays, and
if she had been going on a trip around the world she could not have been
more delighted at the prospect. And her delight and anticipations were
shared in South Harniss. Her uncles' letters for the past fortnight had
contained little except joyful announcements of preparations for her