that old frame."

"Well, why don't you be friendly?"

"It isn't a girl's place to be friendly first, is it?"

Rob stared at her.

"But you had other young men come to see you in town, and--you know I
couldn't."

"I don't live in town now."

"What made you come home?"

"If I'd wanted to I might have stayed there and had 'other young men,'
as you call them, coming to see me yet."

Rob gasped, but said nothing.

"Are you going over to Mr. Brown's?" asked Henrietta, to break the
awkward silence that followed, at the same time moving toward home.

"Well--no," said Rob; "I think I'm going to your house, if you've no
objection," and he laughed, a foolish little laugh.

"Periwinkle was asking about you this morning," said Henrietta
evasively as they walked on toward Mr. Newton's.

Having once fallen into the old habit of going to Mr. Newton's, Rob
could never get out of the way of walking down that lane. Just to see
how Henrietta got on with her drawing, as he said, he went there every
evening. He confided to Henrietta that he had shown such proficiency in
"figures" in the night school that he was to have a place in a civil
engineer's office when he returned to the city in the fall. It wasn't
much of a place; the salary was small, but it gave him an opportunity
to study and a chance of being something some day.

And Henrietta went on with her drawing, but without ever saying
anything about a return to Cousin John's. And, indeed, she never did go
back to Cousin John's from that day to this. She spent three years in
Weston. If they were tedious years, she said nothing about them. Rob
came home on Christmas and for a week in summer. Once in a long time he
would run up the Harlem road on Saturday evening. These were white
Sundays when Rob was at home, for then he and Henrietta went to meeting
together, and sat on the porch in the afternoons while Rob told her how
he expected to be somebody some day.

But being somebody is hard work and slow for most of us, as Rob Riley
found out. His salary was not increased very fast, but he made up for
that by steadily increasing his knowledge and his value in the office.
For Rob had discovered that being somebody means being something. You
can't hide any man under a bushel if he has a real light in him.

It was not till last year that Henrietta returned to the city. She is a
student now in oil painting. But she does not live at Cousin John's.
Nor, indeed, does she live in a v