"I am very busy with my work, so you will understand if my letters come less frequently, won't you? And you will be too busy with your own happiness to bother with an old professor any more anyhow. I have enjoyed our friendship very much,—more than you will ever know,—and I want once more to hope you may be the happiest woman in the world. You deserve to be.
"Very sincerely your friend,
"David A. Duke."
Carol lay down on the bed and crushed the letter ecstatically between her hands. Then she burst out laughing. Then she cried a little, nervously, and laughed again. Then she smoothed the letter affectionately, and curled up on the bed with a pad of paper and her father's fountain-pen to answer the letter.
"My dear Mr. Duke: However in the world could you make such a mistake. I've been laughing ever since I got your letter, but I'm vexed too. He's nice, all right; he's just fine, but I don't want him! And think how annoyed Lark would be if she could see it. I am not engaged to Jim Forrest,—nor to any one. It's Lark. I certainly didn't say it was I, did I? We're all so fond of Jim that it really is a pleasure to the whole family to count him one of us, and Lark grows more deliriously joyful all the time. But I! I know you're awfully busy, of course, and I hate to intrude, but you must write one little postal card to apologize for your error, and I'll understand how hard you are working when you do not write again.
"Hastily, but always sincerely,
"Carol."
Carol jumped up and caught up her hat and rushed all the way down-town to the post-office to get that letter started for Danville, Illinois, where the Reverend Mr. Duke was located. Her face was so radiant, and her eyes were so heavenly blue, and so sparkling bright, that people on the street turned to look after her admiringly.
She was feverishly impatient until the answer arrived, and was not at all surprised that it came under special delivery stamp, though Lark lifted her eyebrows quizzically, and Aunt Grace smiled suggestively, and her father looked up with sudden questioning in his face. Carol made no comment, only ran up to her room and locked the door once more.
"Carol, you awful little scamp, you did that on purpose, and you know it. You never mentioned Lark's name. Well, if you wanted to give me the scare of my life, you certainly succeeded. I didn't want to lose my little chum, and I knew very well that no man in his proper senses would allow his sweetheart to be as good a comrade to another man as I want you to be to me. Of course I was disappointed. Of course I expected to be busy for a while. Of course I failed to see the sterling worth of Jim Forrest. I see it now, though. I think he's a prince, and as near worth being in your family as anybody could be. I'm sure we'll be great friends, and tell Lark for me that I am waxing enthusiastic over his good qualities even to the point of being inarticulate. Tell her how happy I am over it, a good deal happier than I've been for the past several days, and I am wishing them both a world of joy. I'm having one myself, and I find it well worth having. I could shake you, Carol, for playing such a trick on me. I can just see you crouch down and giggle when you read this. You wait, my lady. My turn is coming. I think I'll run down to Mount Mark next week to see my uncle—he's not very well. Don't have any dates.
"Sincerely, D. D."
And Carol laughed again, and wiped her eyes.