lhood--her sleeves rolled up and her hair braided down her back as
she used to wear it.

"You've made up my bed and I'm going to make yours--and I'm going to
cook your supper--why, what's the matter?" Hale's face was radiant with
the heaven-born idea that lighted it, and he seemed hardly to notice the
change she had made. He came over and took her in his arms:

"Ah, sweetheart, _my_ sweetheart!" A spasm of anxiety tightened her
throat, but Hale laughed from sheer delight.

"Never you mind. It's a secret," and he stood back to look at hen She
blushed as his eyes went downward to her perfect ankles.

"It _is_ too short," she said.

"No, no, no! Not for me! You're mine now, little girl, _mine_--do you
understand that?"

"Yes," she whispered, her mouth trembling, Again he laughed joyously.

"Come on!" he cried, and he went into the kitchen and brought out an
axe:

"I'll cut wood for you." She followed him out to the wood-pile and then
she turned and went into the house. Presently the sound of his axe rang
through the woods, and as he stooped to gather up the wood, he heard a
creaking sound. June was drawing water at the well, and he rushed toward
her:

"Here, you mustn't do that."

She flashed a happy smile at him.

"You just go back and get that wood. I reckon," she used the word
purposely, "I've done this afore." Her strong bare arms were pulling the
leaking moss-covered old bucket swiftly up, hand under hand--so he got
the wood while she emptied the bucket into a pail, and together they
went laughing into the kitchen, and while he built the fire, June got
out the coffee-grinder and the meal to mix, and settled herself with the
grinder in her lap.

"Oh, isn't it fun?" She stopped grinding suddenly.

"What would the neighbours say?"

"We haven't any."

"But if we had!"

"Terrible!" said Hale with mock solemnity.

"I wonder if Uncle Billy is at home," Hale trembled at his luck. "That's
a good idea. I'll ride down for him while you're getting supper."

"No, you won't," said June, "I can't spare you. Is that old horn here
yet?"

Hale brought it out from behind the cupboard.

"I can get him--if he is at home."

Hale followed her out to the porch where she put her red mouth to the
old trumpet. One long, mellow hoot rang down the river--and up the
hills. Then there were three short ones and a single long blast again.

"That's the old signal," she said. "And he'll know I want him _bad_."
Then she lau