"Lloyd Sherman," he said, slowly, "you're one girl whose friendship means something.

You don't measure up very high on this old locust, but when it comes to doing the square thing--when it's a question of _honor_, you measure up like a man!" Somehow the unwonted tenderness of his tone, the grave approval of his smile, touched her in a way she had not believed possible.

The tears sprang to her eyes.

There was a little tremor in her voice that she tried to hide with a laugh.
"Oh, Rob! I'm so glad! Nothing could make me happier than to have you think that!" They started on down to the gate together.

The only sound in all the late afternoon sunshine was the soft rustling of the leaves overhead.
How many times the old locusts had watched their yearly partings! As they reached the gate, Rob balanced the letter on his palm an instant.
Evidently he had been thinking of it all the way.