warmly; and oddly enough, those were the last words, except good-byes, which passed between John Bassett and Fanny Lane.
After Fanny went up into her mother's room, she stood for some minutes at the window watching John's tall, broad-shouldered figure, as he walked away. Then she sighed and sat down.
"What 's the matter now?" said Aunt Jane.
"Nothing," said Fanny, "only I was thinking that country people are a great deal happier than we are."
"Pshaw!" said Mrs. Lane, languidly, "I wonder what Mr. Bassett thought of your gown. I don't suppose he ever saw a really handsome silk gown before."
"He did n't appear to think anything about it at all," said Fanny, half petulantly. Could it have been that, side by side with her good, true purpose of saving John Bassett from speaking words he might wish unsaid, she had had a petty desire that he should, at least, confess her more beautiful in her silks and jewels?
"What could you expect?" sneered Aunt Jane. "I don't suppose he 'd know a pearl marguerite with a topaz middle, from one of the ox-eye daisies on his farm!"
"Yes, he would," retorted Fanny, "and like the ox-eye daisy a great deal better; and that 's where he is happier than we are."
John Bassett went back to Deerway. The pur-
