of any advantage to
either of us to talk over this affair, which is now past and gone?"

"I don't want to talk over any of it," said Annie, very promptly,
"except the part of it which is referred to in this letter; but I want
to know about that."

"That covers the most important part of it," said Lawrence.

"Very good," she answered, "and so you can tell it to me. And now,
that I think of it, you can tell me, at the same time, why you wanted
to find my cousin Junius. You refused once to tell me that, you know."

"I remember," said Lawrence. "And if you have the least feeling about
it I will relate the whole affair, from beginning to end."

"That, perhaps, will be the best thing to do, after all," said Annie.
"And suppose we take a walk over the fields, and then you can tell it
without being interrupted."

But Lawrence did not feel that his ankle would allow him to accept
this invitation, for it had hurt him a good deal since his walk to
Aunt Patsy's cabin. He said so to Annie, and excited in her the
deepest feelings of commiseration.

"You must take no more walks of any length," she exclaimed, "until you
are quite, quite well! It was my fault that you took that tramp to
Aunt Patsy's. I ought to have known better. But then," she said,
looking up at him, "you were not under my charge. I shall take very
good care of you now."

"For my part," he said, "I am glad I have this little relapse, for now
I can stay here longer."

"I am very, very sorry for the relapse," said she, "but awfully glad
for the stay. And you mustn't stand another minute. Let us go and sit
in the arbor. The sun is shining straight into it, and that will make
it all the more comfortable, while you are telling me about those
things."

They sat down in the arbor, and Lawrence told Annie the whole history
of his affair with Miss March, from the beginning to the end; that is
if the end had been reached; although he intimated to her no doubt
upon this point. This avowal he had never expected to make. In fact
he had never contemplated its possibility. But now he felt a certain
satisfaction in telling it. Every item, as it was related, seemed
thrown aside forever. "And now then, my dear Annie," he said, when he
had finished, "what do you think of all that?"

"Well," she said, "in the first place, I am still more of the opinion
than I was before, that you never were really in love with her. You
did entirely too much planning, and investigating, and