afternoon service at the church. I'd be a pretty thing driving about
the country with a handsome city man while all the other girls were--
oh, it never would do! I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of it. People
talk about a school-teacher more than any one else, and this valley is
full of malicious gossips."

He was wondering if a little pretense of offense on his part--which,
to his shame, he remembered using in former affairs of the heart--
might make her relent, when he noticed that she was watching something
on the road leading to the village. It was a horse and buggy. Her
sight was keener than his, for she said, in a sudden tone of
gratification:

"It is Mr. Saunders. He is on his way out home."

"So it is," Mostyn said, impatiently. "I'll go down to the gate and
speak to him. Will you come?"

With her eyes on the vehicle, and saying nothing, Dolly tripped down
the steps. How gracefully she moved, he thought. They reached the gate
just as Saunders drew rein.

"Hello!" he cried, cheerily. "How are you, Dolly?" And, doffing his
hat, he sprang down and shook hands with them both. "I'm lucky to
catch you," he added to the girl. "I have something for you."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" Dolly cried. "You are always so kind and
thoughtful."

"It is only a couple of books." Saunders had flushed slightly, and he