had believed that he wanted to marry her and he had Not. The Thought
made her writhe in agony under the new blue and white "counter-pin."
Rather would she have died a thousand deaths than to have Timothy know
of that Disgrace!

For he had been to the City twice since she had come home, with his
other gadding about; flying trips--"on business," it is true he had
said they were--yet he might have heard of it. All Lewisburg might be
ringing with it. Such would undoubtedly explain quite satisfactorily
his present scorn of her. He did not seem in the least anxious to marry
her now.

Timothy, however, no matter what Arethusa thought concerning him and
his gayety and his neglect of her, was having the hardest of hard
times. If Arethusa cried herself to sleep at night, and he did not,
being masculine and not much given to taking a refuge in tears, he
suffered none the less keenly. It seemed to Timothy that he would
never, as long as he lived, forget Arethusa's lovely face as she danced
with Mr. Bennet that night of her New Year's Party. Every single time
he saw her now, it seemed to bring before him the picture she was that
night; wearing Mr. Bennet's flowers (he was quite sure that he knew now
just who had sent her those flowers) and with that wonderful shine in
her eyes just for Mr. Bennet. But he was determined that she should not
know that it made any difference to him.

Poor Timothy!

He loved Arethusa more than he ever had, with all the wealth of love
his clean young heart had in its power to give, now that he thought her
unattainable and with all her own affection given to another man. And
this same heart that loved her so ached and ached over Arethusa's
paleness and thinness; but he accepted Miss Eliza's explanation as the
literal one, that the winter in Lewisburg had been too much for her,
and that all she needed was a tonic. Had Timothy talked a little to
Miss Asenath, as in the old and far happier days, he might have formed
very different conclusions. Yet he would have bitten out his tongue
rather than have mentioned Mr. Bennet's hated name, even to gentle Miss
Asenath, who never failed to understand all that troubled.

So Timothy and Arethusa played at their cross purposes all through the
spring.

For the winter had sped itself away somehow and before anyone was
really aware of its coming, spring had slipped upon all of them. The
days grew warm once more and Arethusa might once again take her books
back to