down admiringly on her.

"Oh, just trying on a frock," she answered, her face charmingly pink
in its warmth, her long lashes betraying a tendency to droop, and her
rich round voice quivering. "Those two women in there made me come out
here so they could see me. I ought to have had more sense."

"I'm certainly glad they did, since it has given me a chance to see
you this way. Why, Dolly, do you know that dress is simply marvelous.
I have always thought you were--" Mostyn half hesitated--"beautiful,
but this dress makes you--well, it makes you--indescribable."

Avoiding his burning eyes, Dolly frankly explained the situation. "You
see it is a sort of windfall," she added. "I've got enough saved up to
pay for it as it is, but if it were not a bargain I could never dream
of it. Mary's father is well off, and she is the special pet of a rich
uncle."

Glancing down the road, she saw the bowed figure of a man approaching,
and at once her face became grave. "It is Tobe Barnett," she said. "I
want to ask him about Robby."

Leaving Mostyn, she hastened to the fence, meeting the uplifted and
woeful glance of Barnett as he neared her. "Why, Tobe, what is the
matter? You look troubled. Robby isn't worse, is he?"

"I declare, I hardly know, Miss Dolly," the gaunt man faltered. "I'm
no judge, nor Annie ain't neither. She's plumb lost heart, an' I'm not
any better. The doctor come this morning. He said it was a very
serious case. He--but I don't want to bother you, Miss Dolly; the Lord