"What's 'D. V.'?" asked the girl, curiously.
"It stands for Deo Volente—Latin words which mean, 'God willing.'"
"I hopes thet yo' does come back, an' we-all will be here ter welcome ye, D. V." said Rose; then added, shyly, "I hev a gift fer yo' ter take back home ter leetle Muriel, ef yo're willin'. Hit's in the cabin, an', ef yo'll wait, I'll run an' git hit fer ye."
"Of course I'll be glad to take it to her, my child, and I know that she'll be delighted both with it and the stories I shall tell her about Smiles. But wait, I will go with you, for there is one thing more I want to do before I leave, if you can find me a piece of string."
With a question in her wide-eyed glance, Rose led him back to the little mountain homestead and, as soon as they were inside, hurried to produce the desired article.
"Now then, hold up your arms," commanded Donald lightly.
Rose obeyed, and, slipping the string about her yielding waist, he drew it taut and tied a knot to mark the resultant measurement. Following the same procedure, he took the circumference of her chest, the length of her arm, and from her neck to a few inches above her slender ankle. Suddenly her puzzled expression gave place to one of understanding, and the starry smile broke over her countenance.
"You've guessed," cried Donald with feigned disappointment.
"Ef hit's a secret, I won't even whisper hit ter no one," the child responded gayly.
"Good. It is a secret, but not a dark one."