what's the matter. He's been queer ever since that
night on the mountain--last Tuesday, wasn't it? Of course he's all right
to the folks, and all that, but he's stuck by himself more or less, and
seemed stirred up over something. Dave, the man we got last winter,
complained to Dad yesterday about Carver's being rather officious with
the men. Dad smoothed it over, of course, and explained how Carver didn't
understand that that sort of thing doesn't go out here. But it kind of
worries me. Everything went all right up there, didn't it, Virginia--on
the mountain, I mean?"

Not even Donald could detect hesitation in Virginia's reply. If Carver
still chose to keep the ill-gotten role of protector, it was not up to her
to take it from him.

"Why, of course, Don," she said promptly. "Everything was perfectly all
right. I guess Carver wasn't awfully pleased at first when he found we had
to stay. You see, he--he hasn't much patience with Vivian when she's
nervous. But she did splendidly, and tried her best not to show how she
felt inside. And I couldn't see why Carver didn't enjoy himself. He
certainly seemed to!"

Donald was plainly puzzled.

"Well," he said, "it gets me! He's not a fellow you can reach very easily
either. If it were Jack, I'd ask him just what the matter was, but somehow
it's different with Carver. There's always something in the way. I
believe it's--too much New England!"

Virginia laughed.

"Too much of it's a dreadful barrier," she observed. "Grandmother Webster
had too much when I first went to Vermont, but I found a little path that
led around it after I'd searched a long time. I think part of the trouble
with Carver is that he's just one of us out here. He isn't looked up to
the way he is at home. Priscilla knew him last summer, you know, and she's
told me about him. We were talking about it just last night, because we've
noticed he's queer lately. Priscilla says he's always been looked up to by
boys and girls of his age because his family's so old, and his father so
wealthy, and his grandfather a colonel. In New England, you know, those
things count, especially the family and the colonel. Then, besides,
Carver's bright and fine-looking and an only son. Out here, you see, Don,
we don't care so much about colonels and old families and money. They're
all right, of course, if you have them, but you've an equal chance if you
don't."

"Maybe Carver's learning that we're right after all," said Donald