But if you're willing to run that risk, take your courage in both hands and come.
"Your friend, "VALERIE WEST." The second week of her sojourn she caught a small pickerel--the only fish she had ever caught in all her life.

And she tearfully begged the yokel who was rowing her to replace the fish in its native element.

But it was too late; and she and Rita ate her victim, sadly, for dinner.
At the end of the week an enormous box of bonbons came for her.

Neither she nor Rita were very well next day, but a letter from Neville did wonders to restore abused digestion.
Other letters, at intervals, cheered her immensely, as did baskets of fruit and boxes of chocolates and a huge case of books of all kinds.
"Never," she said to Rita, "did I ever hear of such an angel as Louis Neville.

When he comes the first of August I wish you to keep tight hold of me, because, if he flees my demonstrations, I feel quite equal to running him down." But, curiously enough, it was a rather silent and subdued young girl in white who offered Neville a shy and sun-tanned hand as he descended from the train and came forward, straw hat under one arm, to greet her.
"How well you look!" he exclaimed, laughingly; "I never saw such a flawless specimen of healthy perfection!" [Illustration: "'How well you look!' he exclaimed"] "Oh, I know I look like a milk-maid, Kelly; I've behaved like one, too.
Did you ever see such a skin?
Do you suppose this sun-burn will ever come off ?" "Instead of snow and roses you're strawberries and cream," he said--"and it's just as fetching, Valerie.