Betty looked up at the bright face, bronzed by the sun and outdoor-life of the mountains. Her eyes softened, and sudden tears filled her lovely eyes.
"When Betty Emmit forgets Ephraim and her old friends," she replied soberly, "the sun will cease to shine!"
"By heck! that sounds just like you!" said the lad, and he gave her arm an affectionate squeeze. "I wish, though," he added hesitatingly, "you'd be engaged to me before you leave!"
Betty's forehead puckered thoughtfully,—then she frankly answered. "Stanley, why do you say that again? It's no sense to be engaged when one is not in love. You know that I think just heaps of you—as a real, real brother. I'll never be in love—don't really know what that means,—so you ought to be satisfied."
"I suppose that I'll have to be," he returned with a sigh. "Well, we won't cry over it," he said smiling down on her, and giving his machine a little spurt. "May I escort you to the dance, to-night?"
"Yes," she replied, smiling back at him.
"That'll be some pleasure anyway—to take you to your 'farewell,'" he said happily.
Betty's eyes flashed merriment.
"I couldn't tell you how many I have said 'yes' to, when they have made the same request."
"Then I am to be one of a bunch?" he asked disappointedly.