“Anne is too wrapped up in music to pay any attention to us.  Come on up to my workshop.  I want to show you something I’m working at in connection with my aeroplane.  We can talk there, without being disturbed.  I want to know what worked this transformation.  It is really too good to be true.  I’ve always wanted Miriam to be friends with Anne, but I had just about lost all hope.”

Grace followed David up the stairs and through the hall to his workshop, which was situated at the back of the house.

“Now,” said the young man, as he pushed forward a stool for his guest, “fire away.”

Grace began with their call at the house, their walk in search of Miriam, and their adventure with the tramp, modestly making light of her own bravery.  When she had finished, David held out his hand, his face glowing with appreciation “Grace,” he said, “you’ve more spirit and courage than any girl I ever knew.  You ought to have been a boy.  You would have done great things.”

Grace felt that this was the highest compliment David could pay her.  She had always cherished a secret regret that she had been born a girl.

“Thank you, David,” she said, blushing, then hastily changed the subject.  “Tell me about your aeroplane.  Is it still at the old Omnibus House?”

“Yes,” David answered.  “I had it here all winter, but I moved it out there again about a month ago.”

“I should like to see it again,” said Grace.  “I didn’t have time to look at it carefully the day you invited us out there.”

“I’ll take you over any time you want to go,” said David.  “Oh, better still, here’s a duplicate key to the place.  You can take the girls and go over there whenever you please, without waiting for me.  You are the only person that I’d trust with this key, Grace,” he added gravely.  “I had it made in case old Jean or I should lose those we carry.  I wouldn’t even let the fellows have one, for fear they might go over there, get careless and do some damage.”

“It’s awfully good of you, David,” Grace replied as she took the key.  “I’ll be careful not to lose it.  I’ll put it on my watch chain.  It’s such a small key it is not likely it will be noticed.”

Grace took from her neck the long, silver chain from which her watch was suspended.  She opened the clasp, slid the key on the chain and tucked both watch and key snugly into her belt.

“There,” she said, patting it, “that can’t get lost.  My chain is very strong.  I prefer a chain to a pin or fob, because either one is so easy to lose.”

“That’s sensible,” commented David.  “Girls wouldn’t be eternally losing their watches if they weren’t so vain about wearing those silly little chatelaine pins.”

“Why, David Nesbit!” exclaimed Grace, glancing up at the mission clock on the wall.  “It’s almost nine o’clock!  I had no idea it was so late.  Let’s go down at once.”

They returned to the parlor to find Anne and Miriam deep in some foreign photographs that Miriam had collected during her trip to Europe the previous summer.