her neck, and duly appeared on her left hand. She had promised to
keep the engagement "or understanding, or preference," a profound
secret, but this was impossible. First one intimate friend and
then another was allowed to gasp and exclaim over the news. The
time came when Anne decided that it was not "decent" not to let
Martin's aunt know of it, when all these other people knew.
Finally came a dinner to the Norths', when Cherry's health was
drunk, and then the engagement presents began to come in.

"But it's July now," Cherry said, innocently, "and I think we were
pretty smart to keep it a secret so long! Don't you, Dad? And
we've been engaged three months, now, so that it looks as if
waiting wasn't going to change our minds, doesn't it?"

He could not chill her gay confidence; he had always spoiled her.
Her father only looked tenderly into the blue eyes, and tightened
his big arm protectingly about the slender young shoulders. But he
was deeply depressed. There seemed nothing to say. Cherry was of
age; she was sure of herself. She was truly in love with this
presentable young man. Doctor Strickland felt that he did not know
Martin--the man to whom he gave his lovely daughter he would have
hoped to know intimately for years. There was nothing to be said
against young Lloyd. It was only--mused the doctor, aghast--only
what was being done in the world every day. But he was staggered
by the bright readiness with which all of them--Cherry, Martin,
the other girls--accepted the stupendous fact that Cherry was to
be married.

She was quite frankly and delightedly discussing trousseau now,
too entirely absorbed in her own happiness to see that the other