“Beautiful!” said Miss Edith.  “I expected an answer like that, but not so well put.  Now let me translate it into plain, simple language.  What you want is to give up your present life, which must be awfully stupid, and go and help Mrs. Chester keep the Holly Sprig.  That would suit you exactly.  A charming wife, charming surroundings, charming sense of living, a life of absolute independence!  But don’t think,” she added, quickly, “that I am imputing any sordid motives to you.  I meant nothing of the kind.  You would do just as much to make the inn popular as she would.  I expect you would make her rich.”

“Miss Edith Larramie,” said I, “you are a heartless deceiver!  It makes my blood run cold to hear you speak in that way.”

“Never mind that,” she said, “but tell me, didn’t you think it would be just lovely to live with her in that delightful little inn?”

I could not help smiling at her earnestness, but I answered that I did think so.

She nodded her head reflectively.  “Yes,” she said, “I was right.  I think you ought to admit that I am a good judge of human nature—­at least, in some people and under certain circumstances.”

“You are,” said I.  “I admit that.  Now answer me a question.  What do you think of it?”

“I don’t like it,” she said.  “And don’t you see,” she added, with animation, “what an advantage I possess in having determined never to marry?  Very few other girls would be willing to speak to you so plainly.  They would be afraid you would think that they wanted you, but, as I don’t want anybody, you and I can talk over things of this kind like free and equal human beings.  So I will say again that I don’t like your affection for Mrs. Chester.  It disappoints me.”

“Disappoints you!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” she said, “that is the word.  You must remember that my acquaintance with you began with a sort of a bump.  A great deal happened in an instant.  I formed high ideas of you, and among them were ideas of the future.  You can’t help that when you are thinking of people who interest you.  Your mind will run ahead.  When I found out about Mrs. Chester I was disappointed.  It might be all very delightful, but you ought to do better than that!”

[Illustration:  “‘Do you think you could hit it with an apple?’”]

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-two last May,” she replied.

“Isn’t that the dinner-bell I hear in the distance?” I said.

“Yes,” she answered, “and we will go down.”

On the way she stopped, and we stood facing each other.  “I am greatly obliged to you,” she said, “for giving me your confidence in this way, and I want you to believe that I shall be thoroughly loyal to you, and that I never will breathe anything you have said.  But I also want you to know that I do not change any of my opinions.  Now we understand each other, don’t we?”