ince I have known you two, I have felt that Miriam and you were
friends with whom I could talk freely, and I am now going to tell you,
and I know you will never mention it, that I do not believe I shall ever
marry Mr. Ames."

"What!" exclaimed Ralph. "Didn't you say you were engaged to him?"

"Of course I said so; and I am, and I was very glad to be able to say it
to Miss Panney, for she is always bothering me about such things; but
the engagement is a peculiar one. Mr. Ames has been coming to see me for
a long time, and I think it was because he heard that I was planning to
go away that he decided to declare himself at once, before he lost his
opportunity. I told him that I had never thought of anything of the sort;
but he was very insistent, and at last I consented, provided the
engagement should be a long one, and that, if after I had seen more of
the world and knew myself better, I should decide to change my mind, I
must be allowed to do so. He fought terribly against this, but there was
nothing for him to do but agree, and so now we are engaged on
approbation, as it were. This is a great relief to me in various ways,
because I feel as if I were safely anchored, and not drifting about
whichever way the wind blows, while other people are sailing where they
want to; and yet, whenever I please, I can loosen my anchor, and spread
my sails, and skim away over the beautiful sea."

It is seldom that a siren, leaning lightly against a bright new
hay-cutter, with a background of iron rakes and hoes and spades, sings
her soft song. But it was so now, and Dora, her heart beating quickly,
looked from under her long lashes to note the effect of her words.

"If he will drop the little Drane," she said to herself, "I will drop
the rector."

But Ralph stood looking past her. It was as plain as could be that he was
not approaching the rocks; that he did not like the song; and that he was
thinking what he should say about it.

"Oh, dear," said Dora, suddenly starting. "I have ever so much to do
this morning, and it must be nearly noon. I wonder what made that queer
Miss Panney think of giving me this corkscrew."

Ralph knew very well that the old lady meant the little implement as a
figurative auxiliary of consolation, but he merely remarked that Miss
Panney did and gave very queer things. He opened the door for her, and
she bade him good-by and went out.

She crossed the street, and when on the opposite sidewalk, she turned