"Yes, I know; but we're not going to do anything like that! Papa wouldn't let us."
"No, I suppose not," and Alice sighed as though she really wanted to indulge in some such daring "stunt" as a bridge leap.
"I know one part you're going to have, Ruth," went on Alice, as she surveyed herself in the glass.
"What is it?" asked Ruth, eagerly. "Shall I like it?"
"I think you will, dear. It's laid in an old mill—there is one on Oak Farm, I believe. You're to be imprisoned in it, and your lover rides up—probably on one of those silly milk-white steeds I object to—and rescues you—breaks down the door in fact—and gets you just as you are about to be bound on the mill wheel."
"Really, Alice?" cried Ruth, clasping her hands in delight, for she dearly loved a romantic rôle.
"Really and truly—truly rural, I call it."
"How did you hear of it?"
"Oh, I overheard daddy and Mr. Pertell talking about it. Mr. Pertell asked daddy if he'd object to your taking a part like that."
"And what did dad say?"