"Did the trash burn?"
"Every scrap," replied Jeanne. "I opened the furnace door, after a minute or two to see. The fire was pretty hot and they burned right up."
"It is foolish," said her grandfather, "to keep old letters—and old vows."
During the Easter vacation, the Huntingtons entertained a visitor, an attractive lad of fifteen, whose home was in Chicago. His name was Allen Rossiter.
"He's sort of a cousin," explained Harold. "His grandfather and my grandfather were brothers."
Jeanne decided that Allen was a pleasant "sort of a cousin." A fair, clean-looking lad with wide-awake blue eyes, Allen was tall for his age and very manly.
"I've heard a lot about you," said Jeanne, the day Allen paid his first visit to old Mr. Huntington. "You've been here before, haven't you?"
"Yes. You see, my father's a railroad man, so, naturally, I have to practice traveling because I'm going to be one, too. I've learned how to order a meal on the train and have almost enough left to tip the porter."
"You've accomplished a great deal," smiled Mr. Huntington.
"More than that," said Allen. "I know how to read a time-table. How to tell which trains are A.M.'s and which are P.M.'s. Which ones are fast and which are slow. Here's a time-card—I have ten lovely folders in my pocket. Tell me where you want to go, Jeannette, and I'll show you just how to do it."