ngers to her
ears; nevertheless she glanced around with a kind of challenging
amusement at the half a dozen or more friends who were standing near, as
she interrupted her visitor.

"Betty! Betty!" she exclaimed. "I have been wondering the greater part
of this afternoon whether this is a farewell party to me or an
opportunity to send messages to Betty Ashton." Purposely Polly waited
until she was able to catch John Everett's eye, for he stood talking to
Eleanor Meade only a few feet away. John pretended not to have heard
her. He had only returned to Woodford for the week in order to see his
father and sister, for he had graduated at Dartmouth some time before
and was now in a broker's office in New York City. And already he was
under the impression that he had attained the distinction of a New York
millionaire and that his presence in Woodford was a unique experience
for his former village acquaintances. So he was now being extremely kind
to his sister Meg's old friends, although it was, of course, absurd for
any one to presume that he had more than a passing, pleasant
recollection of any girl whom he had ever known in Woodford.

All this that he was thinking Polly appreciated when she had watched
the young man's face for less than half a moment. And as she had a
reprehensible fondness for getting even with persons, she then
registered a private vow to let Betty hear just how much John Everett
had changed.

However, she had but scant time to devote to this resolution, for almost
at the same instant another young man, excusing himself from his sister,
walked toward her with an expression which was rarely anything except
grave and reserved.

Polly spoke to him with especial pleasure. For the past two years had
changed not only her attitude toward Anthony Graham, but that of a good
many other persons in Woodford.

Two years can be made to count for a great deal at certain times in
one's life and Anthony had made the past two do for him the work of
four. He was no longer an office boy and student in Judge Maynard's
office, for he had graduated at law and was now helping the old man with
the simpler part of his practice. And because Judge Maynard was seventy
and childless he had taken a liking to Anthony and had asked him to
live in his home, for the sake of both his protection and his society.
And this perhaps was a forward step for the young fellow which the
people in the village appreciated even more than the boy's o