The First Milestone

Three months sped by and were gone like a dream.

Day after day, until should come that longed-for, yet dreaded test, Rose
studied with a diligence that delighted the private tutor whom Donald,
through Miss Merriman, had secured for her--a young woman who found
herself astonished by her pupil's avidity in seeking knowledge.

The passing days were not, however, wholly dedicated to the books which
held for Smiles the key to the citadel she sought to possess.

Other doors and other hearts were open to her, and, because of her
simple charm, Donald's family welcomed her as a visitor whose every
advent in the city home seemed to bring a fresh breath from the hills
and open spaces. Little Muriel, who had loved her unseen, worshipped her
on sight, and Ethel, happy in Donald's betrothal to Marion Treville,
would have been glad to have had her with them far more often than she
would consent to come.

Long walks she took, too, regardless of weather, swinging freely along
on voyages of discovery; losing herself often in Boston's impossible
streets, only to find her way back home with the instinct for direction
of one bred amid forests, trackless, save for infrequent blind and
tortuous paths. And soon the historic, homey city cast its strange spell
over her heart, and claimed her for its own.

Spring came at last, not the verdant, glorious, festal virgin of the
Southland, but the hesitant, bashfully reserved maiden so typical of New
England, and Miss Merriman finally reported to Donald that their joint
protégé seemed to be fairly prepared for the test which she had come so
far to take.