She must have been a wonderful and an adorable mother."

That made him happy. He wanted very much to turn and walk back with
her, this girl whose presence always brought him such pleasure. But
she had forbidden him to do this. It seemed that in his home land
women were wonderfully independent creatures.

So he let her go on alone and with a disappointed heart. For Nanny had
hoped that he would ask and she had meant to let him. With the
disappointment came the taunting memory of her words to Grandma
Wentworth: "Honesty is best. A dozen words would do it."

That evening when her father clumsily tried to make amends Nan said
carelessly:

"Never mind, Dad. I _am_ in love--with a little boy and his pet hen."

But she had the grace to blush. And that night as she slipped the
picture under her pillow she said a little defiantly:

"Well--what of it? All is fair in love and war."

CHAPTER XIII

AUTUMN IN GREEN VALLEY

Joe Baldwin was standing in front of his little shop. He was
bareheaded and that meant that he was worried. For it was only in
moments of mental distress that Joe laid aside the black cap that gave
him the look of a dashing driver of the Twentieth Century Limited.

In the autumn dusk a chilly little wind played about the street corners
and wailed softly through the thinning tree-tops. The big lamp above
Joe's workbench was unlighted so the little shop was in darkness except
for the fitful wavering of the ruddy wood fire in the big stove.

The streets were empty and quiet. It was an hour after supper and
Green Valley was indoors sitting about its first fires and talking of
the coming winter; remembering cold spells of other years; thanking its
stars that the coal bin was full and wondering whether it hadn't better
put on its heaviest underwear.

Joe knew just about what Green Valley was thinking and saying. From
where he stood he could see what a part of Green Valley was doing. For
this early in the evening Green Valley never pulled down its shades.
So when the lights flared out in the Wendells' west front up-stairs
window Joe saw Mrs. Wendell go to the clothes closet and bring out
various newspaper parcels. Joe knew very well that those parcels
contained furs.

Furs and ferns were Mildred Wendell's two passions. She had furs of
all sizes and colors and weights, beginning with the little muff and
tippet her favorite aunt had given her long ago when she was only five
to the real