Where else could they be making
for? But Mel, for them to be together! Why, the Colonel's an old
sport, and she--Mel--you know Miss Hill!"

Whereupon Mel acquainted Daren with the circumstances of a romance
between Miss Hill and the gallant Colonel.

"Well--of all things!" gasped Lane, and straightway became speechless.

"You're right, Daren; they are coming in. Isn't that nice of them?
Now, don't you dare show I told you anything. Miss Hill is so easily
embarrassed. She's the most sensitive woman I ever knew."

Lane recovered in time to go through the cottage to the front porch
and to hear Miss Hill greet Mel affectionately, and announce with the
tone of a society woman that she had encountered Colonel Pepper on the
way and had brought him along. Lane had met the little schoolteacher,
but did not remember her as she appeared now, for she was no longer
plain, and there was life and color in her face. And as for
embarrassment, not a trace of it was evident in her bearing. According
to Mel, the mere sight of man, much less of one of such repute as
Colonel Pepper, would once have been sufficient to reduce Miss Hill to
a trembling shadow.

But the Colonel! None of his courage manifested an appearance now. To
Lane's hearty welcome he mumbled some incoherent reply and mopped his
moist red face. He was wonderfully and gorgeously arrayed in a new
suit of light check, patent leather shoes, a tie almost as bright as
his complexion, and he had a carnation in his buttonhole. This last
proof of the Colonel's mental condition was such an overwhelming shock
to Lane that all he could do for a moment was stare. The Colonel saw
the stare and it rendered him helpless.

Miss Hill came to the rescue with pleasant chat and most interesting
news to the exiles. She had intended coming out to the cottage for
ever so long, but the weather and one thing or another falling on a
Saturday, had prevented until to-day. How pretty the little home! Did
not the Colonel agree with her that it was so sweet, so cosy, and
picturesquely situated? Did they have chickens? What pleasure to have
chickens, and flowers, too! Of course they had heard about Mr. Harry
White and the widow, about the dissension in Doctor Wallace's church.
And Margaret Maynard was far from well, and Helen Wrapp had gone back
home to her mother, and Bessy Bell had grown into a tall ravishingly
beautiful girl and had distracted her mother by refusing a
millionaire, and seemed very