The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. Lucy sat beside him. “I couldn’t help it. “Until a girl can go away as a son does and earn her independent income, she’s still on a string. ’ Then she ran swiftly out of the library, calling out as her cavalier was almost at the front door. Every care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the humane inmates of the house in which he had sought shelter. To-morrow they will know the truth. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants.
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