"Not he," laughed Annis; "he said he was very hungry, and they were kindly urgent with him to stay and eat, but he preferred taking a long, cold ride before breaking his fast."
"I admire his self-denial," remarked Don, with gravity. "Anything else of interest from Aunt Wealthy?"
"Yes," said Annis; "she was speaking of some religious book she had been reading, and said she had bought it from a portcollier. And yesterday, when I complained that I hated to darn my stockings, she said, 'Oh, my dear, always attend to that; a stocking in a hole, or indeed a glove either, is a sure sign of a sloven.'"
"Then," said Don gravely, "I trust you will be careful never to drop yours into holes."
"Don't let us make game of dear, kind old Aunt Wealthy," Fan said, in a gentle, deprecating tone.
"Oh, no, not for the world!" cried Annis, "but one can't help laughing at her funny mistakes; and indeed she is as ready to do so as any one else."
"Yes; and it's very nice in her," said Don.
For a while after that Don watched Fan closely, but noticing that she was always cheerful, bright, and interested in all that was going on, he dismissed his fears with the consoling idea that there could not be anything serious amiss with her.
By midsummer Mildred was fairly settled in her own house, and work for Ada was being pushed forward with energy and dispatch.