marry ME, Neil Campbell? Folks say I'm as bonny as Nan--and I
could love you as well as Nan loves her Donald--ay, and ten times
better!'

"What do you suppose the Campbell did? Why, just the thing he
ought to have done. He took Betty at her word on the spot; and
there was a double wedding soon after. And it is said that Neil
and Betty were the happiest couple in the world--happier even
than Donald and Nancy. So all was well because it ended well!"

The Story Girl curtsied until her silken skirts swept the floor.
Then she flung herself in her chair and looked at Mr. Campbell,
flushed, triumphant, daring.

The story was old to us. It had once been published in a
Charlottetown paper, and we had read in Aunt Olivia's scrapbook,
where the Story Girl had learned it. But we had listened
entranced. I have written down the bare words of the story, as
she told it; but I can never reproduce the charm and colour and
spirit she infused into it. It LIVED for us. Donald and Neil,
Nancy and Betty, were there in that room with us. We saw the
flashes of expression on their faces, we heard their voices,
angry or tender, mocking or merry, in Lowland and Highland
accent. We realized all the mingled coquetry and feeling and
defiance and archness in Betty Sherman's daring speech. We had
even forgotten all about Mr. Campbell.

That gentleman, in silence, took out his wallet, extracted a note
therefrom, and handed it gravely to the Story Girl.