"Of course! He has made you interesting already."

The Doctor laughed. "How one's motives are mistaken. That was the last thing I meant to do!"

Hester looked up at the Doctor, gleams of mischief in her eyes. "You being you," she said, "it couldn't be otherwise." With which ambiguous remark she went out the door.

Landor followed her down the steps. "Miss Dale," he asked, "may I walk along with you? I fancy I am going your way." Landor's way was usually where he chose to make it.

Hester acquiesced simply. She had been accustomed to the society of men since she could toddle, and felt no embarra.s.sment in the presence of a stranger. Landor noted the free, swinging motion with which she kept step with him as they went down the street.

"You are not a true Radnorite," he said abruptly.

"No, I am not. Why?"

"Radnor girls do not walk as you do."

"I am half inclined to believe you are a cowboy, after all, Mr. Landor."

"Why?"

"Are we playing twenty questions? You have bad manners, a habit of dealing in personalities-we call it impertinence."

"Twenty questions," he repeated, ignoring her rebuke. "Why, I have not heard that mentioned for years. It is a favorite game in Radnor, isn't it?"

"I am sure I don't know," she said wearily; "I know very little about Radnor."

"And I less," he said. "I've been away so much of the time. But there were certain things taken into my innermost being in my youth, along with the air I breathed, I suppose, that no amount of absence will eradicate."

"For instance?" she said, with feigned interest, for her mind kept wandering off to her recent interview with Miss Ware, and she wished she had not allowed him to accompany her.

"Well, the question of residence, you know. The few acres of sacred soil in Radnor on which it is permissible to live. I remember as a little boy how my nurse only allowed me to play with children whose parents lived on the water side of Crana Street or the sunny side of Belton Avenue.

Any other than those and the streets immediately intersecting was beyond the pale of civilization, even to her. It is odd, isn't it?" smiling down at her.

"What is odd, the fact or your acceptance of it?" There was a little ring in her voice which struck the man's alert ear.

A look of surprise came into his handsome dark face. "Am I walking too fast for you, Miss Dale?" he asked, pleasantly.

That was the second time he had put aside a thrust of hers with some trifling, irrelevant remark, and it tended to heighten rather than soothe her growing irritation.

"I think," she said, stopping abruptly on the corner, "that I shall say good morning to you here. I do not happen to live in that sacred locality you mention, and I would not for worlds take you beyond the pale."

"Miss Dale," he gasped, "you don't think I abide by any such nonsense-you are doing me a great injustice. Surely you are not going to dismiss me!"

"Yes," she said, smiling, and showing her dimples in a sudden access of pleasure at the thought of getting rid of him, "I really believe I am."

He lifted his hat, and stood for some moments on the corner watching her vanish from sight. How slender she was, and graceful, and what a sweet little smile had accompanied her nod of farewell! Now he thought of it, her eyes had queer lights in them, baffling, as if she were laughing at him all the time. And her tone was half mocking, too, though he had taken it seriously enough in all conscience. Was she serious, or had he made an idiot of himself? This latter contingency was not one which presented itself with marked frequency to the mind of Kenneth Landor, and therefore gave him much food for reflection as the day wore on.

CHAPTER VIII

"Whom in the world do we know in New Hampshire?" asked Julie one morning, glancing askance at an envelope in her hand.

"Suppose you open it and find out," meekly suggested Hester, peeping over her shoulder.

"Why, see, it is addressed to us both-it's probably an invitation or something."

"It is not," a.s.serted Julie; "I can tell by the look of it. It's-why, Hester Dale, it's a fifty dollar bill."

"What?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Hester.

"It is, and a note. Think of daring to trust such a thing by mail! Look at it yourself."

Hester seized both the bill and the letter, and unfolding the latter found the following mysterious communication in typewriting:

"From one some love to those one loves, Greetings:

"A conspiracy having been formed for the purpose of circ.u.mventing fate, the initial step is herewith taken in the form of the enclosed paltry bill, intending it to be the forerunner of many a happy hour in which, though absent, will be ever present

"The Arch-Conspirator."

"Whoever could have done such a thing?" queried Hester in astonishment, "Dr. Ware?"

"No, I don't think so, though he might-is capable of doing anything.

But, Hester, just think of it-fifty dollars! Why, it is almost a fortune!"

"I should think it was, and it is the kindest, most generous thing I ever heard of. It couldn't be from Virginia, could it?"

"I don't believe so, Hester. Cousin Nancy disapproves of us too much to do such a thing. I think it is from some one who loves Daddy and feels sorry for us all, and takes this way of showing it. Oh, how good people are!"

"Some people," corrected Hester.

"If it had come from almost any other place than New Hampshire it wouldn't be quite so puzzling," said Julie. "I am sure we don't know a soul in the whole state."

"Well, I say let's stop guessing and be thankful we have it," advised Hester. "It is some one who does not want to be known, and I don't suppose we really ought to try to guess, but I just hope we will get a chance sometime to do something for that somebody, whoever he is. You can see the person has had great fun doing it, by the way it is written, Julie."

"Yes." softly, still puzzling over the unexpected windfall.

"You've got another letter in your lap, Julie. Have you forgotten its existence? It looks like Nannie's writing-do read it aloud."

Julie took up the forgotten letter, and opening it began:

"My Sweetest, Preciousest Girls" (Isn't that just like Nan?) "You owe me a letter, both of you; but it's such ages since we've heard that I just can't wait any longer. I'm _so_ afraid mummie's last letter hurt you, though I wrote you at the time just not to mind anything she said. She was awfully cross and put out for several days, but father and I played backgammon with her until we actually played her into a good humor-you know how she'd play backgammon until she couldn't sit up another minute; and I know she loves you girls nearly as much as she does me, though she sputters away about you now and then; but that is just mummie's way.

"How I do wish you were here! I say that a dozen times a day, and whenever father hears me he says you will be, sometime. He's got just the loveliest scheme for bringing you all down here on a visit, since you're so proud and haughty and won't come and live with us! I shan't tell you a thing about it but you just wait until dear Cousin Dale gets better, and then you'll see!"

Julie's voice got suspiciously husky here, and it was a moment before she went on: