ter while she had been so busy with her moving pictures.

Instead of settling down with his father in the offices of the great
drygoods house from which Mr. Cameron's fortune had come, Tom, abetted by
Helen, had become almost a social butterfly in New York.

But Chess Copley, although no sober-sides, had thrown himself heart and
soul into the real estate business and had already made a tidy sum during
the six months that had ensued since his discharge from the army.

It was true, Chess was looking forward to taking a vacation at the
Thousand Islands with his family. He told Ruth so with enthusiasm, and
hoped to see her again at that resort. But Chess, Ruth felt, had earned
his vacation, while Tom remained a mere idler.

Chess accompanied the Cheslow young people to the Grand Central Terminal
when they left the dock and there bade Ruth good-bye.

"I shall see you in a fortnight at the Thousand Islands," he assured her,
and shook hands again. "I shall look forward to it, believe me!"

Tom hung about, gloomy enough, even after they boarded the train. But the
girls were gay and chattering when they entered their compartment. Ann
Hicks was going home with Helen for a brief visit, although she would be
unable to go elsewhere with them during the early part of the summer,
owing to previous engagements.

"I am determined to go to the St. Lawrence with you, Ruth," declared
Helen. "And I know Tommy-boy is aching to go."

"I thought," said Ruth rather gravely, "that he might really take to
business this summer. Doesn't your father need him?"

"Plenty of time for work, Tommy thinks," rejoined Tom's sister gaily.

But Ruth did not smile.

CHAPTER IV

BILBY

The old, shingled Red Mill, which Jabez Potter had revamped each spring
with mineral paint, was as brilliant a landmark on the bank of the Lumano
River as ever it had been. In fact, it seemed as though Ben, the hired
man, had got the red of the shingles and the trim a little redder and the
blinds a little greener this last spring than ever they had been before.

Overshadowed by great elms, with the yard grass growing thick and lush
right up to the bark of the trees, the surroundings of the mill and
farmhouse connected with it (at least, all of those surroundings that
could be seen from the Cheslow road), were attractive indeed.

Although the old house seemed quite as it always had been from without,
many changes had been made inside since first Ruth Fieldi