really was serious.

Betty Jo rose to her feet, and looked straight at him, and there was no
mistaking the genuineness of the interest expressed in those big gray
eyes.

"Oh, are you? Is it really so serious? I am so sorry. But don't you
think you better tell me about it, Mr. Burns? If I am to work for you, I
may just as well begin right here, don't you think?"

There it was again,--that trick-question. Brian felt himself agreeing in
spite of himself, though how he was to explain his painful situation
to this young woman whom, until a few minutes before, he had never even
seen, he did not know. He answered cautiously, speaking half to himself:
"That is what Judy said."

Betty Jo did not understand, and made no pretense,--she never made a
pretense of anything. "What did Judy say?" she asked.

"That I had better tell you about it," he answered.

And the matter-of-fact Betty Jo returned: "Judy seems to be a very
particular and common-sensing sort of Judy, doesn't she?"

And Brian realized all at once that Judy was exactly what Betty Jo said.

"But,--I--I--don't see how I CAN tell you, Miss Williams."

"Why?" laughed Betty Jo. "It is perfectly simple, Mr. Burns, here,
now, I'll show you: You are to sit down there on that nice comfortable
rock,--that is your big office-chair, you know,--and I'll sit right here
on this rock,--which is my little stenography-chair,--and you will just
explain the serious business proposition to me with careful attention to
details. I must tell you that 'detailing' is one of my strong points, so
don't spare me. I really should have my notebook, shouldn't I?"

Again, in spite of himself, Brian smiled; also, before he was aware,
they were both seated as Betty Jo had directed.

"But this is not a business matter, Miss Williams," he managed to
protest half-heartedly.

Betty Jo was looking at her watch in a most matter-of-fact manner, and
she answered in a most matter-of-fact voice: "Everything is more or less
a business matter, isn't it, Mr. Burns?"

And Brian, if he had answered, would have agreed.

Betty Jo slipped her watch back into her pocket, and continued: "You
will have plenty of time before that man with my trunk and things can
get away 'round over Schoolhouse Hill and down again to Auntie Sue's. He
will be obliged to stop at neighbor Tom's, and tell them all about me,
of course. We mustn't let him beat us to the house, though; so, perhaps,
you better begin, don't you think?