in reading again the well-thumbed fairy books of
her childhood.

She had read the book which Ralph had brought Araminta, and thought of
asking him to lend her more--if she ever saw him again. She knew that
he was very busy, but she felt that, surely, he would come again before
long.

Araminta danced up the path, singing, and rapped at Miss Evelina's
door. When she came in, it was like a ray of sunlight in a gloomy
place.

"Miss Evelina!" she cried; "Oh, Miss Evelina! I'm going to be married!"

"I'm glad," said Evelina, tenderly, yet with a certain wistfulness.
Once the joy of it had been in her feet, too, and the dread valley of
desolation had opened before her.

"See!" cried Araminta, extending a dimpled hand. "See my ring! It's
my engagement ring," she added, proudly.

Miss Evelina winced a little behind her veil, for the ring was the one
Anthony Dexter had given her soon after their betrothal. Fearing
gossip, she had refused to wear it until after they were married. So
he had taken it, to have it engraved, but, evidently, the engraving had
never been done. Otherwise Ralph would not have given it to
Araminta--she was sure of that.

"It was his mother's ring, Miss Evelina, and now it's mine. His father
loved his mother just as Ralph loves me. It's so funny not to have to
say 'Doctor Ralph.' Oh, I'm so glad I broke my ankle! He's coming,
but I wanted to come first by myself. I made him wait for five minutes
down under the elm because I wanted to tell you first. I told Aunt
Hitty, all alone, and I wasn't a bit afraid. Oh, Miss Evelina, I wish
you had somebody to love you as he loves me!"

"So do I," murmured Evelina, grateful for the chiffon that hid her
tears.

"Wasn't there ever anybody?"

"Yes."

"I knew it--you're so sweet nobody could help loving you. Did he die?"

"Yes."

"It was that way with Mr. Thorpe," mused Araminta, reminiscently.
"They loved each other and were going to be married, but she died. He
said, though, that death didn't make any difference with loving.
There's Ralph, now."

"Little witch," said the boy, fondly, as she met him at the door; "did
you think I could wait a whole five minutes?"

They sat in the parlour for half an hour or more, and during this time
it was not necessary for their hostess to say a single word. They were
quite unaware that they were not properly conducting a three-sided
conversation, and Miss Evelina made no effort to enlighten them.