"Oh, my goodness! No! How could one be so foolish with such a dear, dear letter as I've got here. A regular love letter, Nelson Haley!"
The young man's face changed suddenly. It looked very grim, and he caught at her hand which held little Lottie's letter.
"What's that?" he demanded, so gruffly that Janice was quite astonished.
"Why, Nelson Haley! What's the matter?" she asked, looking at him with wide-open eyes.
"Who's been writing to you, Janice?" he asked, huskily.
"I will show it to you. It is too, too dear!" exclaimed the girl, again half sobbing. "Read it!"
The teacher spread out the crumpled page. The look of relief that came into his face when he saw Lottie's straggling pen-tracks was not at all understood by Janice.
He read the child's letter appreciatively. She saw the tears flood into his own eyes as he gently folded the letter and handed it back.
"Why, Janice," he said, at last. "What's a motor car to that?"
"That's what I say," she cried, and laughed. "Come on! let's tell it to Lottie's echo. We'll see if it is still lurking in the dark old spruce trees over yonder on the point."