As

CHAPTER XXI

S the days passed-even, indeed, with the passing of the hours-Rusty's conscience vexed her more and more. Her sleep was troubled and she woke very early in the morning to reiterate her round of compunction and remorse. If only she hadn't done it! If only they would have been willing to take the stuff back! If only she hadn't gone to Wenham at all that day; or if Mabel Graham, that hateful, fat, despicable Mabel Graham, hadn't poked her flat, inquisitive nose in.

The girl couldn't eat, and she couldn't conceal that fact nor her white face and hollow eyes from her parents, however her forced gaiety might have deceived them otherwise. They were greatly concerned. After talking it over together more than once or twice and reaching no conclusion, they agreed that Rusty's father should appeal to his oracle, Reuben.

He sought him out at once, and related a doleful tale.

"I'd like to be able to keep the one girl I have left, Reuben," he added mournfully, "but I seem to see her slipping away, slipping away, day by day."

"Oh, but it can't be so bad as that, Mr. Miller," Reuben protested. "It's probably only something on her mind. Rusty's so excitable and gets carried away so that she uses up lots of strength that way.' "I know, Reuben, but this don't seem like that," returned her father. "She's as meek and quiet as a lamb. Her ma's afraid she's going into a decline." "I don't think it can be," Reuben insisted. "Perhaps it's got something to do with school and the prize. Anyhow, I shouldn't wonder if I could find out what the trouble is, and I'll come over this afternoon. I won't tell Miss Penny anything till after I've seen her."

Though he was secretly disturbed as he set out that afternoon, Reuben's heart grew lighter. He had always missed Rusty when she went home, but this summer he had missed her as never before. She had come to Miss Penny's to tea twice a week, and he had usually seen her between her visits; but somehow of late he had been more chary of seeking her out. The consciousness of her feeling him old and sedate and perhaps heavy often held him back when he was eager and longing to see her. But when she was at Miss Penny's he was seldom aware of any such attitude on her part.

thing seemed, somehow, just perfect.

Then every

And now it

wouldn't be many days before she would be back again.

He overtook Rusty out on an errand, and carried her parcel back to the house. Then they walked down the Wenham road to the bridge. The Millers were moving into the new house the next day but one, and Rusty thought she might not have another chance to visit a favorite haunt.

She looked pale and worn indeed. She was very quiet until Reuben asked if she would be glad to be back in school again. Then she was ardent in her eagerness. In reality, the girl believed that only in hard study could she ever regain anything of her former peace of mind.

Delighted at such earnestness, Reuben declared it to be his belief that she would win the scholarship.

"After all, you are so much more interested— really interested, you know-in your studies than Mabel is," he added. "That means a lot in the long run. I'm almost sure you'll get it."

"Oh, do you really think I can?" the girl cried. "Oh, Reuben, if I only could!" And to his great wonder she wrung her hands.

"Why, Rusty, I didn't dream you cared like that?" he said.

"I don't," returned Rusty wretchedly. She stopped short. Leaning on the side of the bridge she dropped her head a minute on the top of the parapet. Then she raised a white face full of misery.

"I never cared like this, Reuben," she confessed, "but now something I've done something that makes me feel that if I don't get it, I shall always be miserable-all my life long. It won't seem nearly so bad, though, if I get it. Oh, Reuben, do you think having the result come out well ever makes a wrong act right?”

"Not for the one that does it," Reuben returned without hesitation. And later Rusty remembered and applied his words and dismissed, forever as she thought, her absurd suspicions in regard to the two fires.

"But, Rusty," he added, "I don't believe you've done any such thing."

Then Rusty related the tale of the yellow silk. And Reuben understood better than she would have supposed-better than any one else would have done, she believed. Just confessing was a relief; and though Reuben didn't make light of it, he didn't wonder that she had done as she did, and he didn't apparently regard the matter as hopeless.

"If only they would have taken it back!" she said.

Reuben considered a moment. "Let me have it," he proposed. "I know Mr. Gorham a little, and I'll see him. There's no harm in trying as long as the piece cut off is big enough to make a dress for any one."

"Oh, Reuben, if you would!" cried Rusty eagerly. Then she sobered. "But I ought not to let yousuch a horrid thing to do, and for a boy, too."

"That's what boys are for, to make things easier for girls and ladies, if they can," declared Reuben sagely. "And, anyhow, I don't mind. If Mr. Gorham doesn't feel that it's fair, he needn't do it."

They returned to the house, and Rusty tossed the package out the window to Reuben. It was nearly a week, however, before he got a chance to go over to Wenham with it. He helped with the moving two days, supplementing the heavy truck with the pony cart. And then Miss Penny had an attack of rheumatism and he didn't want to leave her. thus it happened that he set forth on the afternoon of the day when Anna Miller had left her work and her lodgings without a by your leave or a good-by, and turned her face toward home.

And