The girl shook her head seriously.
"I hope not."
Monica's smile was at thoughts which were quite impossible for the other to read.
"I hope that day will come," she said. "So there we must agree to think differently. Meanwhile, may I come and see you, and will you come and see me?" Her eyes grew almost pathetically appealing. "Will you?" she urged.
A flush of embarrassment swept over the girl's happy face. In a moment she was struggling to express her gratitude.
"Oh, ma—Mrs. Hendrie," she cried. "Me come to Deep Willows? I—I—oh, it would be too much."
"Will you?"
Monica had set her heart on obtaining this girl's promise.
"Oh—yes—if—if——"
"There must be no 'ifs,'" Monica cried. Then she urged her horse nearer the buckboard and held out her hand.