of mischief was in her eyes as
she went on--

"It would be awful if a girl had to ask some one to marry her, wouldn't
it?"

"Sure."

Seth moved out into the passage; the last horse was bedded down, and they
stood together leaning on their forks.

"The man would be a silly, wouldn't he?"

"A reg'lar hobo."

"What's a 'hobo,' Seth?"

"Why, jest a feller who ain't got no 'savee.'"

"'Savee' means 'sense,' doesn't it?" Rosebud's eyes were innocently
inquiring, and they gazed blandly up into the man's face.

"Wal, not exac'ly. It's when a feller don't git a notion right, an' musses
things up some." They were walking toward the barn door now. Seth was
about to go up to the loft to throw down hay. "Same as when I got seein'
after the Injuns when I ought to've stayed right here an' seen you didn't
go sneakin' off by y'self down by the river," he added slyly, with one of
his rare smiles.

The girl laughed and clapped her hands.

"Oh, Seth!" she cried, as she moved out to return to the house, "then
you're a regular 'hobo.' What a joke!"

And she ran off, leaving the man mystified.

Rosebud and the lawyer left the following morning. Never had such good
fortune caused so much grief. It was a tearful parting; Ma and Rosebud
wept copiously, and Rube, too, was visibly affected. Seth avoided
everybody as much as possible. He drove the conveyance into Beacon
Crossing, but, as they were using the lawyer's hired "democrat," he
occupied the driving-seat with the man who had brought the lawyer out to
the farm. Thus it was he spoke little to Rosebud on the journey.

Later, at the depot, he found many things to occupy him and only time to
say "good-bye" at the last moment, with the lawyer looking on.

The girl was on the platform at the end of the sleeping-car when Seth
stepped up to make his farewell.

"Good-bye, little Rosebud," he said, in his quiet, slow manner. His eyes
were wonderfully soft. "Maybe you'll write some?"

The girl nodded. Her violet eyes were suspiciously bright as she looked
frankly up into his face.

"I hope we shall both be happy. We've done our duty, haven't we?" she
asked, with a wistful little smile.

"Sure," replied Seth, with an ineffective attempt at lightness.

The girl still held his hand and almost imperceptibly drew nearer to him.
Her face was lifted to him in a manner that few would have mistaken. But
Seth gently withdrew his hand, and, as the train began to move, climbed
down and d