er whose work has
this appeal, we feel that she belongs to us.

In any case, let us hear from you soon again.

"A hundred dollars!" Sally said proudly, handing the letter back. "You
smart thing! That's a nice letter, isn't it? Don't you think it is? I
do. Listen, Mart, don't say anything about Joe's plans, will you?
That's all in the air. I've got to go now, it's eleven. And Mart, don't
worry too much about anything. It will all seem perfectly natural and
pleasant once it's DONE. Good-bye, dear, I wish I could have been some
help to you about it all!"

"You have been, Sally--I believe you've been the greatest help in the
world!" Martie answered enigmatically, kissing Mary's soft little neck
where the silky curls showed under the little scalloped bonnet.
"Good-bye, dear--don't walk too fast in this sun!"

When Sally had tripped away, Martie sat on at the Library desk, staring
vaguely into space. Outside, the village hummed with the peaceful
sounds of a mild autumn morning. A soft fog had earlier enveloped it;
it was rising now; every hour showed more of the encircling brown
hills; by noon the school children would rush into a sunshiny world.
Shopping women pushed baby-carriages over the crossings; a new
generation of boys and girls would swarm to Bonestell's in the late
afternoon. Time was always moving, under it all; in a few weeks the
Clifford Frosts would be home again; in a few months the High School
would stand on the ground where little Sally and Martie Monroe had
played dolls' house a few years ago.

This was her last week at the Library; Daisy David was coming in to
take her place. Already Miss Fanny suspected the truth, and her manner
had changed toward Martie a little, already she was something of a
personage in Monroe.

Women and children and old men came out and in, their whispers sounding
in the quiet, airy space. Len's wife came in, with the third daughter
who should have been a son. Teddy and Billy came in; they wanted five
cents for nails; they had run out of nails. Measles had closed the
little boys' classes, and they were wild with the joy of unexpected
holiday.

Martie presently found herself telling Miss Fanny that she would like a
few hours' freedom that afternoon: she had shopping to do. She ate her
basket lunch as usual, then she walked out into the glaring afternoon
light of Main Street. A summer wind was blowing, the warm air was full
of grit and dust.

The Bank first, then Clifford's