yway. And"--with a sniff and a toss of her
head--"we'll be in town now where we can enjoy ourselves."

It is not a pretty thing to contradict a lady, but certainly if Miss
Jocelyn's papa made the remark which she attributed to him it must
have been at some time prior to his return from the camp to Valley
City; prior, too, to his exit from Valley City to Crawfordsville. For
her papa went out of the Valley reclining wordlessly upon a thick
padding of quilts in the bed of a big wagon, with his few household
effects so arranged about him as to screen him from the sun and the
curious gaze of a chance passer-by, and in no condition to express
himself upon any matter whatever.

There was in Crawfordsville, upon a pleasant, shady avenue, a little
vine-covered cottage belonging to Bat Truxton, and thither the big
wagon conveyed him, his scornful daughter, and his few household
effects. And there shortly after twilight upon the third day after the
closing of school in Valley City Mr. Roger Hapgood, sartorially
immaculate in shining raiment, glorious as to tie and silken socks,
presented himself.

Miss Jocelyn Truxton, a big, yellow-hearted rose peeping forth at him
from a carefully careless profusion of brown hair, came out upon the
porch at his knock, smiled at him saucily, and offered him her hand.

"How do you do, Mr. Hapgood? We didn't expect you again so soon. I
thought that maybe you had forgotten us." And then, blushing prettily
over the hand which Mr. Hapgood was still holding ardently in his,
"Won't you come in?"

Mr. Hapgood, having assured her that he should forget all else in the
world before he forgot her, called her attention to the fact that it
was a deucedly fine evening, and that it would be too bad to lose any
of it by going into the house. His smile and eloquent eyes pointed out
that there was a not uncomfortable rustic bench, large enough to
accommodate two nicely, at the cozy, vine-sheltered end of the porch.

"And how is Mr. Truxton?" he asked, his tone gently solicitous, when
they were seated.

"I have had Dr. Biggs call since you were here," she told him,
assuming the pose which a certain Broadway favorite had discovered
(the photograph of the leading lady in this particular pose had been
cut from the latest theatrical gazette which now lay upon the
sitting-room table; it is denied us to enter the room set aside for
Miss Jocelyn to see if the picture be pinned to the wall over her
dresser!)--a pos