"Good girl not to say yes," cried the latter gayly, putting her arm round Mildred's neck and kissing her.
"What do you mean, Zillah? You don't know anything about it," Mildred said, repulsing her slightly and averting her face.
"Yes, I do. Mr. Lord's been asking you to marry him—I knew by his looks that that was what he came for—and I'm glad you won't have him. He's nice enough as a minister, but too old and ugly and awkward for a husband for my pretty sister Milly. Wallace Ormsby would be far more suitable, in my humble opinion," she added, with a merry twinkle in her deep blue eyes.
Mildred looked at her and took a sudden resolution. "Come in here," she said, pushing open her room door. "Zillah, can you keep a secret?"
"Suppose you try me," was the laughing rejoinder.
"I will. I am sure I may trust you."
So Zillah presently knew how matters stood between her sister and Charlie Landreth, and Mildred felt that she had another hearty sympathizer, and was safe from any more teasing about Wallace Ormsby from that quarter.
As for the latter, he of course improved his chance as they drove together that afternoon over the prairies and through the beautiful autumn woods; and Mildred had the painful task of crushing his hopes as she had already crushed those of her older admirer.