hat these two who were to be together all the next year
should be so slow in getting acquainted. "One is obstinate and the other
is shy, and I don't know when they will get over it," she sighed to
herself, as Frieda, seeing Catherine come up the walk, disappeared into
the house.

Catherine was breathless with her quick climb and her many parcels. She
dropped into a chair on the porch, and took off her hat to fan herself.

"There is the funniest woman on the street," she said. "I know she is an
agent, and I suppose she'll be here soon; but I've got to shell these
peas and I want to do it out here, so I shan't run from her. Won't you
bring out some pans for the peas when you take your broom in, Hannah?
I'm too weary to move."

Hannah, on her way after pans, persuaded Frieda to come out and help
shell peas, and all three were soon busily at work.

Suddenly Catherine snapped a pea at Hannah to attract her attention.

"My agent!" she whispered, as a woman in a loose flowing gown marched
toward them.

She mounted the steps and, stooping over Catherine, snapped something
around her neck.

"There!" she said, straightening herself. "That will never come off."

All three girls gasped. Catherine clutched at the offending article and
the peas rolled in all directions.

"It's a collar," said the woman triumphantly. "You can wear it forever.
Just put a fresh ribbon over it now and then, and you're always dressed.
Only fifteen cents. I'll try one on you, Miss--" and before Hannah could
utter a protest she was caught in the celluloid trap as Catherine had
been. Speechless they faced each other. With a little gasp Frieda
slipped over the porch railing and disappeared around the corner of the
house. Hotspur came bounding after her and she patted him, and hugged
him and laughed and laughed.

"A collar just like yours, Hotspur dear," she told him in German. "And
it will never come off! Catherine, the Saint, the Perfect, the
Inviolate, sitting there looking like a--in English, like an idiom! O,
Hotspur, dear, it has done me good. I have wished I could want to laugh
at her. Now I shan't be so afraid of her ever again. Come! we must go.
It's time for our row." And Frieda danced off across a little wood path
which was a short-cut to the boat-house.

Polly was waiting, and in a very few minutes the "Minnehaha" was
launched. It was a beautiful day, the river rippling with waves and
twinkling with reflections of trees, but the ardent