felt that a
boy--such a boy--would effectually spoil the good times she and her mate
might have had together, alone. Finally, Molly asked:

"Who was your letter from?"

For answer and with considerable pride Dorothy drew James Barlow's
epistle from its envelope and held it toward her friend, saying:

"You can read and see."

Molly read and returned the letter, with a little sniff of contempt and
the remark:

"Huh! The only interesting part of that is the post-script. It will be
just fine to have those dogs along. I suppose Mrs. Calvert sent them up
from Baltimore to Deerhurst. But if I were you, Dolly Doodles, I
wouldn't let that ignoramus preach to me like he does to you in that
letter. He's a prig, that's what he is, and I hate a prig. So there."

"No, he isn't. Mr. Seth would say that he had only 'lost his head' for a
minute. You see poor Jim can't get over the wonder of his getting his
'chance.' He's simply crazy-wild over learning--now. He believes it's
the only thing in the world worth while. He didn't mean to scold me.
I--I guess. If he did I don't mind. He's only Jim. He just knows I'll
have to take care of my father and mother, some day, if our mineral
spring and mine don't pay better than now. He's afraid I'll waste my
'chance,' that's all. Dear, faithful old Jim!"

"Pooh! Horrid, pokey old Jim, I say. But Monty'll have some fun in him;
unless--he thinks two girls are poor company."

"I hope he will. I hope he'll coax your father and those old 'boys' to
take him with them into the woods. That might do him some good and take
the nonsense out of him."

"Well, Dorothy, I think that's not a nice thing for you to say. You must
have forgotten the night of the fire and what he did to help you. There
wasn't any 'nonsense' about Montmorency Vavasour-Stark then, if you
please!"

Instantly touched by this reminder and fully regretful for her
sarcasm--though still sorry that he was coming--Dolly returned:

"That's true, Molly, honey. I did forget, just for a minute. He's not
half bad, Monty isn't; and I guess he'll be useful to climb trees and
pick cherries for us, or get flowers that we can't reach. Anyhow, we're
fairly dawdling and almost quarreling, and all the time your father is
getting further away. See! He's stopping before that house? I'll race
you to the gate!"

"All right. One--two--three--go!"

It was a charming little cottage before which they brought up at the
Judge's side. Its front yard was