Mr. Smith seemed pleased at all this attention—he seemed, indeed, quite touched; but he seemed also embarrassed—in fact, he seemed often embarrassed during those last few days at Hillerton.

Miss Maggie Duff did not go to the station to see Mr. Smith off. Miss

Flora, on her way home, stopped at the Duff cottage and reproached Miss

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Maggie for the delinquency.

"Nonsense! Why should I go?" laughed Miss Maggie.

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"Why SHOULDN'T you?" retorted Miss Flora. "All the rest of us did, 'most."

"Well, that's all right. You're Blaisdells—but I'm not, you know."

"You're just as good as one, Maggie Duff! Besides, hasn't that man boarded here for over a year, and paid you good money, too?"

"Why, y-yes, of course."

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"Well, then, I don't think it would have hurt you any to show him this last little attention. He'll think you don't like him, or—or are mad about something, when all the rest of us went."

"Nonsense, Flora!"

"Well, then, if—Why, Maggie Duff, you're BLUSHING!" she broke off, peering into Miss Maggie's face in a way that did not tend to lessen the unmistakable color that was creeping to her forehead. "You ARE blushing! I declare, if you were twenty years younger, and I didn't know better, I should say that—" She stopped abruptly, then plunged on, her countenance suddenly alight with a new idea. "NOW I know why you didn't go to the station, Maggie Duff! That man proposed to you, and you refused him!" she triumphed.

"Flora!" gasped Miss Maggie, her face scarlet.