“I didn’t know I had,” replied Lois, evasively.

“You don’t treat him a bit the way you did at first.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Flora.”

“Well, if you don’t, it’s no matter,” returned Flora.  “Francis hasn’t said anything about it to me; you needn’t think he has.  All is, you’ll never find a better fellow than he is, Lois Field, I don’t care where you go.”

Flora spoke with slow warmth.  Lois’s face quivered.  “If you don’t take care you’ll never get married at all,” said Flora, half laughing.

Lois sat up straight.  “I shall never get married to anybody,” said she.  “That’s one thing I won’t do.  I’ll die first.”

Flora stared at her.  “Why, why not?” said she.

“I won’t.”

“I never knew what happiness was until I got married,” said Flora.  Then she flushed up suddenly all over her steady face.

Lois, too, started and blushed, as if the other girl’s speech had struck some answering chord in her.  The two were silent a moment.  Lois sewed; Flora stared off through the trees at the darkening sky.  The low rumble of thunder was incessant.

“George is one of the best husbands that ever a girl had,” said Flora, in a tender, shamed voice; “but Francis would make just as good a one.”

Lois made no reply.  She almost turned her back toward Flora as she sewed.

“I guess you’ll change your mind some time about getting married,” Flora said.

“No, I never will,” returned Lois.

“Well, I suppose if you don’t, you’ll have money enough to take care of yourself with some time, as far as that goes,” said Flora.  Her voice had a sarcastic ring.

“I shall never have one cent of that Maxwell money,” said Lois, with sudden fire.  “I’ll tell you that much, once for all!” Her eyes fairly gleamed in her delicate, burning face.

“Why, you scare me!  What is the matter?” cried Flora.

Lois took a stitch.  “Nothing,” said she.

“You’d ought to have the money, of course,” said Flora, in a bewildered way.  “Who else would have it?”

“I don’t know,” said Lois.  “You are the one that ought to have it.”

Flora laughed.  “Land, I don’t want it!” said she.  “George earns plenty for us to live on.  She’s your own aunt, and of course she’ll have to leave it to you, if she does act so miserly with it now.  There, I know she’s your aunt, Lois, and I don’t suppose I ought to speak so, but I can’t help it.  After all, it don’t make much difference, or it needn’t, whether you have it or not.  I’ve begun to think money is the very least part of anything in this world, and I want you to be looking out for something else, too, Lois.”

“I can’t look out for money, or something else, either.  You don’t know,” said Lois, in a pitiful voice.

There came a flash, and then a great crash of thunder.  The tempest was about to break.

Flora started up abruptly.  “I must run,” she shouted through a sudden gust of wind.  “Good-by.”