"She DID!" My cousin stopped rocking, and fixed me with her glittering
eye. "Well, of all!"

"Is it so surprising?"

The lady gave her boat to the waves again. "Ann Apperthwaite thinks
about him still!" she said, with something like vindictiveness. "I've
always suspected it. She thought you were new to the place and didn't
know anything about it all, or anybody to mention it to. That's it!"

"I'm still new to the place," I urged, "and still don't know anything
about it all."

"They used to be engaged," was her succinct and emphatic answer.

I found it but too illuminating. "Oh, oh!" I cried. "I WAS an innocent,
wasn't I?"

"I'm glad she DOES think of him," said my cousin. "It serves her right.
I only hope HE won't find it out, because he's a poor, faithful
creature; he'd jump at the chance to take her back--and she doesn't
deserve him."

"How long has it been," I asked, "since they used to be engaged?"

"Oh, a good while--five or six years ago, I think--maybe more; time
skips along. Ann Apperthwaite's no chicken, you know." (Such was the
lady's expression.) "They got engaged just after she came home from
college, and of all the idiotically romantic girls--"