"Just--about, I guess!" Anne answered briefly. Both girls' faces
were red. They had rarely touched upon these and kindred subjects
in their talks with each other; they had never discussed them with
any one else. Anne liked to fancy herself rather worldly wise;
Alix had an independent brain and tongue. But in their household
there was no older woman to illumine their confused guessing with
an occasional word now and then, even if an unusually wholesome
out-of-door life had not distracted their attention from the
problems raised in books, and their isolation had not protected
them from the careless talk of other girls of their ages.

August brought Martin, and more changes. He was delighted with his
work in the El Nido mine, the "Emmy Younger," and everything he
had to say about it was amusing and interesting. It was still in a
rather chaotic condition, he reported, but the "stuff" was there,
and he anticipated a busy winter. He was to have a cottage, a
pretty crude affair, in a few weeks, right at the mine.

"How does that listen to you?" he asked Cherry. Cherry was sitting
beside him, at the dinner table, on the first night of his
arrival. She was thrilling still to the memory of his greeting
kiss, its fresh odour of shaving soap and witch hazel, and the
clean touch of his smooth-shaven cheek. She gave her father a
demure and interrogative glance. Martin, following it, immediately
sobered.

"Just what is your position there?" the doctor asked, pleasantly.

"A little bit of everything now," Martin answered, readily and