hadn't done anything for Anna, and she was such a good girl. She liked a good time better than Rusty, yet she had worked steadily and faithfully at Miss Penny's, so that Rusty could have the more time for study. She was older than the girls in the graduating class, and yet she had agreed to enter the freshman class at the academy next fall, and was studying up, under Reuben's tuition, to take the entrance examinations. Truly, she deserved it.

More than that—by the strangest chance in the world, he happened to have just that sum put away, a secret fund known to no one. Back in the fall Rusty had handed him thirteen dollars and fifty cents to think of even the cents being exact!—a refund for something she had bought at Wenham at the time when they were moving into the new house and he had purposely put it aside for some emergency. He had what he wanted, of course, his tobacco and a weekly paper and more clothes than he thought he needed; but Rusty kept the purse-strings rather tightly drawn when it came to extras of that sort.

He counted out the money to Anna, quite as delighted as she, kissed her and bade her not to tell. Anna hugged him ecstatically and declared no onenot even her mother-should know of the gown until she wore it to the party.

A

CHAPTER XXX

T the last moment, Reuben decided not to at

tend Margaret's party. There was no fun in going to social affairs when he couldn't be with Rusty or couldn't even hang round the circle of which she was the centre. He got along at school and at home-he had to-and he went skating and coasting; but where there were boys enough to go around, he didn't feel that it was his duty to undergo the ordeal a party must be to him. He took Anna to the door and left her.

"I don't believe there'll be any need of my coming for you, Anna," he said. For Anna was very popular and one of the boys would walk home with her at the end of the festivities.

"But, Reuben, aren't you going to stay?" she cried amazed.

"No, Anna, I don't think I will. I don't seem to care for it," he returned.

Anna understood.

his spirits to come in.

But she felt it might raise

Every one liked him so well

that it seemed to her it ought to be a great comfort to him.

"Oh, come along," she begged, "they'll all be

so disappointed. Come, teacher, please, so that I shan't feel as if I were playing truant. If you go home I shall feel as if I ought to go back and take off my new gown and study the rule for partial payments."

Reuben smiled in his grave way.

"Your father's more than pleased, Anna, about your going; he was talking about it to-day," he returned. "He thinks you're going to be the belle of the party, and it would do him all up if you should back out. Good-by. See you later or perhaps it'll be earlier."

"So long," Anna returned in a resigned way. And Reuben took himself hurriedly away as the door was opened, to avoid importunity from that quarter.

Neither did he wish to encounter Miss Penny until it should be too late to think of the party. He decided to drop into the Millers' for a little.

Just before he reached the house, he felt snowflakes in the air. Looking toward a lighted window, he saw that they were falling thickly. Rusty would be disappointed to have the skating spoiled.

In Rusty's absence, Mrs. Miller was up-stairs with the boys who were going to bed. Seth sat in his armchair clad in a comfortable house-jacket, his stockinged feet in a chair before him.

"My patience, Reuben, ain't you at the party?"

he cried in surprise. Reuben repeated that he hadn't seemed to care anything about it.

"Oh, but Reuben, you ought to a boy like you. The first you know you'll be an old man before your time," Seth remarked. "Now look at me for example. I've taken Jenny out to two evening occasions this winter and I felt like a young beau. The young folks'll feel all cut up to lose you, Reuben, there ain't anybody they'd miss half so much. I swan, I don't know what Rusty'll say. Did she know you wa'n't going?"

"No, I guess not."

"Well, I guess she won't show her temper before 'em all, but I don't know's we folks need to go to bed before she gets home. She may raise the roof, you know."

He laughed. But Reuben's smile was so faint that he sobered quickly.

"What's the reason you ain't going, Reuben? You got the toothache now?" he asked anxiously.

"I never had it in my life," said Reuben promptly, adding less readily: "I knew I shouldn't have a good time and I just made up my mind I wouldn't go."

"I don't blame you one mite, Reuben," said Miller warmly, vaguely aware of an undertone in the boy's voice. "You're too old and grown-up for that bunch. You prefer the company of your

own thoughts or the elevating companionship of such a woman as Miss Penny who remembers wartimes. And though I ain't a match for you in most ways, you ain't above coming in and cheering me up. I haven't a doubt that in the bottom of your heart you'd rather set here visiting with me than be amongst them children at the party. Their capers would just wear on you."

Though there was a certain amount of truth in Seth's remarks, nevertheless Reuben felt rather guilty in his assenting silence. He was wandering about the room, and stopped to look out the window.

"Well, the skating's spoiled for this year," he remarked. "Too bad, too, when there's Friday and Saturday ahead, and every one was counting on it."

"What's up?" Seth inquired comfortably. "Thaw setting in?"

"No, it's snowing-beginning slow and steady and small flakes-the real thing."

"You don't say," murmured Miller politely. Then suddenly he uttered an impatient "By George!"

"What's up?" said Reuben in his turn.

"Oh, Reuben, just my luck!" he grumbled. "What do you suppose I did! I went and opened a window in the big schoolroom at the academy when I was sweeping out, and never shut it down