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I was just ready to cry. But that dear Dick leaned over the table and patted my hand.

“There, there, it’s all right. I understand and of course I forgive you. Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

The way Dick said “sweetheart” was perfectly lovely. I envied Aunt Tommy, and I wanted to keep on crying so that he would go on comforting me.

“And you’ll come back to see Aunt Tommy again?” I said.

Dick’s face clouded over; he got up and walked around the room several times before he said a word. Then he came and sat down beside me and explained it all to me, just as if I were grown up.

“Sweetheart, we’ll talk this all out. You see, it is this way. Your Aunt Bertha is the sweetest woman in the world. But I’m only a poor minister and I have no right to ask her to share my life of hard work and self-denial. And even if I dared I know she wouldn’t do it. She doesn’t care anything for me except as a friend. I never meant to tell her I cared for her but I couldn’t help going to Owlwood, even though I knew it was a weakness on my part. So now that I’m out of the habit of going I think it would be wisest to stay out. It hurts dreadfully, but it would hurt worse after a while. Don’t you agree with me, Miss Elizabeth?”

I thought hard and fast. If I were in Aunt Tommy’s place I mightn’t want a man to know I cried about him, but I was quite sure I’d rather have him know than have him stay away because he didn’t know. So I spoke right up.

“No, I don’t, Mr. Richmond; Aunt Tommy does care–you just ask her. She cries every blessed night because you never come to Owlwood.”

“Oh, Elizabeth!” said Dick.

He got up and stalked about the room again.

“You’ll come back?” I said.

“Yes,” he answered.

I drew a long breath. It was such a responsibility off my mind.

“Then you’d better come down with me right off,” I said, “for Pinky Carewe had her out driving last night and I want a stop put to that as soon as possible. Even if he is rich he’s a perfect pig.”

Dick got his hat and came. We walked up the road in lovely creamy yellow twilight and I was, oh, so happy.

“Isn’t it just like a novel?” I said.

“I am afraid, Elizabeth,” said Dick preachily, “that you read too many novels, and not the right kind, either. Some of these days I am going to ask you to promise me that you will read no more books except those your mother and I pick out for you.”

You don’t know how squelched I felt. And I knew I would have to promise, too, for Dick can make me do anything he likes.

When we got to Owlwood I left Dick in the parlour and flew up to Aunt Tommy’s room. I found her all scrunched up on her bed in the dark with her face in the pillows.

“Aunt Tommy, Dick is down in the parlour and he wants to see you,” I said.

Didn’t Aunt Tommy fly up, though!

“Oh, Jill–but I’m not fit to be seen–tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

I knew Aunt Tommy wanted to fix her hair and dab rose-water on her eyes, so I trotted meekly down and told Dick. Then I flew out to Jacky and dragged him around to the glass door. It was all hung over with vines and a wee bit ajar so that we could see and hear everything that went on.

Jacky said it was only sneaks that listened–but he didn’t say it until next day. At the time he listened just as hard as I did. I didn’t care if it was mean. I just had to listen. I was perfectly wild to hear how a man would propose and how a girl would accept and it was too good a chance to lose.