find some way. Buy things at all the stores and
charge them to me. Give away and use what you can, but _buy_. We
owe it to the town and we must do it. Can you promise to take part of
the job for me?"

"I'll try, Father," I answered doubtfully. "I like the kind of clothes
the girls wear, so I will get mine in the stores, and I can give
presents to all who will allow it."

"That's it--presents--presents to your friends," said Father in a
relieved tone of voice, and I could see that he had no idea of the
burden he had put on my shoulders. "Now fade away, and let me work,
kiddie. You are all to the good!"

As I walked along home my heart was so heavy down in my toes that my
feet almost stuck to the pavement--not only about the task of spending
the money, but about the secret. However, I reasoned it up into my
breast again. If my father is one of the men that magazines write
against and say is too rich to be good, he has always told me the
truth; and when he said I hadn't done the great secret any damage I
believed him. If he can trust Rogers as himself, I can, too.

But after this, when I know anything that all the world can't know I'm
going to wear a horsehair ring, like Belle makes Mamie Sue do, to
remind me not to forget and tell. I thought I was stronger-minded than
that, but I see I'm not. You see, leather Louise, I must be more
trustworthy than just any girl; for if I'm untrustworthy, then it will
be a tragedy, because it will prove that I inherited it and so be an
evidence against Father in my own mind and the world's too.

Since I have been with Roxanne so much, and seen so many things which
prove that God is looking directly after her, as my getting the apple
plan shows, I feel so much nearer to Him. I am going to pray to Him to
help me to help Father, and take both our honors in His keeping. Amen!
Goodnight!

Of course, the whole spring keeps springing wonderful days on a
person, each one lovelier than the last; but the one that came down
from over Old Harpeth, as the tallest hump on the ridge is called, was
so lovely that it was hard to believe that I was not just seeing it
with Roxanne's eyes. If it was so beautiful, with its orchard smells
and blooms and buzzing of bees and soft little winds, to me, I wonder
what it did look like to _her_. And to think that Roxanne was
almost in tears before it was nine o'clock.

The interurban that runs by Byrdsville and out over the ridge to the
city has cars only ev