kissed him
with all her warm frank heart on her lips, and then she slipped from his
embrace and was gone as Yorke dashed from the house, mounted his horse,
and galloped swiftly away.

CHAPTER XVI

MOPPET MAKES A DISCOVERY

It was early autumn in Connecticut, and the maples had put on their most
gorgeous robes of red and yellow. The weather had been mild for that
region up to the middle of October, when a sudden light frost had flung
its triumphant banner over hill and dale with a glow and glory seen to
its greatest perfection in New England. The morning air was somewhat
fresh, and Miss Bidwell, hearing Moppet's feet flying along the hall,
opened the door of the sitting-room and called the child.

"You will need your tippet if you are going beyond the orchard, and I
think perhaps your hood."

"Hood!" echoed Miss Moppet disdainfully, shaking her yellow curls over
her shoulders until they danced almost of themselves; "I do not need to
be muffled up as if I were a little girl, Miss Bidwell. You forget I was
twelve years old yesterday," and she waltzed around the room, spreading
her short skirt in a courtesy, to Miss Bidwell's admiring gaze.

"Indeed, I am likely to recollect when I myself arranged the twelve
candles in your birthday cake."

"To be sure!" cried Moppet, with swift repentance, "and such an
excellent, rich cake as it was, too. Do you think"--insinuatingly--"that
I might have a slice, a very tiny slice, before I go forth with Betty to
gather nuts in the Tracys' woods?"

"No," replied Miss Bidwell, laughing, "you will assuredly be ill if you
touch one morsel before dinner. Run along, Miss Moppet, I see your
sister waiting for you at the gate," and Moppet, with a jump and a skip,
flew off through the side door and down the path, at the end of which
stood Betty.

It was a very lovely Betty over whom the October sunshine played that
morning, but to a keenly observant eye a different Betty from her who
had danced at the De Lancey ball, now nearly three years past. This
Betty had grown slightly taller, and there was an air of quiet dignity
about her which suggested Pamela. But the beautiful merry eyes had
deepened in expression, and it was, if anything, a still more attractive
face than of old, although the fair unconsciousness of childhood had
departed; and if mischief still lurked in the dimpled cheeks, that was
because Betty's heart could never grow old; no matter what life might
hold for her o