"He would not come," answered Betty simply; "he said he was traveling westward, and I thought he seemed anxious to be off."
"But we pressed him, Aunt Euphemia," put in Moppet, "and I told him my pony could carry double. And I do not know how we will return his cape; do you?"
"You must come indoors at once and get dry clothing," said her aunt, "and I will tell Chloe to make you a hot posset lest you get a chill; run quickly, Moppet, and do not stand a moment longer in those wet clothes. Now, Betty," as the child disappeared inside, "have you any idea who this stranger can be, or whence he came?"
"I have not," said Betty, blushing rosy red (though she could not have told why) under her aunt's clone scrutiny.
"What did he look like?" questioned Miss Euphemia.
"Like a young man of spirit," said Betty, mischief getting the better of her, "and he had a soldierly air to boot and spoke with command."
"I trust with all due respect as well," said Miss Euphemia gravely.
"Truly, he both spoke and behaved as a gentleman should."
"Do you think it could be Oliver's friend, young Otis from Boston?" said Miss Euphemia. "He was to arrive in these parts this week."
"It may be he," said Betty, "ask Pamela, she has met him;" and as she turned to enter she almost fell into the arms of a tall, slender girl who was hurrying forth to meet her.