en boys expiring for love of her. Elizabeth would have died
rather than confess this wish--even to herself. Nevertheless, it was
there, and back of it lay another, still hazy, but also very real, the
ambition to be an Annie and have a John Coulson and a brick house with
white pillars and a Vision lying on a sofa waving ten pink rosebud toes
in one's face. But these were things one would not breathe, so
Elizabeth answered lightly.

"I guess I haven't--much. I think I'd like to teach school--maybe. At
least I'd like it just as well as anything else, but you see I can't,
now."

"My, but you're enthusiastic. But isn't there something you'd like
better than anything else?"

Elizabeth's long lashes drooped again. That was forbidden ground. She
shook her head, and poked the Vision's ribs until he screamed with
laughter.

"Some of the girls in your class have gone to Toronto to learn nursing.
Would you care about that?"

"I suppose that would do to earn my own living; only John makes me sick
when he talks about operations. Look, Sweetie; pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,
baker's man."

"I suppose you wouldn't like to hammer a typewriter in my office? I
need a girl, but perhaps Aunt Margaret wouldn't think it was genteel."

"That would do, if I wouldn't bother you too much; and I'd just love to
be with you, John Coulson, only--oh, oh, look at the darling pet
swallowin' him's own pinky toes. Oh, John Coulson, just look!"

John Coulson laughed indulgently.

"Oh, Betsey!" he said in despair, while his eyes were very kind,
"you're no use in the world. We'll just have to get you married."

Nevertheless, he thought much about the girl after his return home and
talked over her case with his wife. "Send her a note and tell her to
come here for a week," was his final decision. "We must do something
for the poor kid."

So Annie very willingly wrote her sister, and on the day her letter
arrived at The Dale Elizabeth received another. This one was from
Estella. It was an ecstatic letter, as everything emanating from
Estella generally was. It chronicled page after page of her trials
with her beaux. An embarrassment of riches was what troubled Estella.
She did wish Beth would come to Cheemaun and take some of them off her
hands. But of course Beth didn't care about boys, she had forgotten.
Madeline Oliver was just as bad, boys never looked near her. And
speaking of Madeline, what did Beth think? Since they'd left scho