you are!"

She flashed a quick, inquiring glance at him.

"Yes; June can be beautiful with us. Still, there is a beauty more
mature, when the sickle is about to be thrust into the grain."

He did not hear what she said. He was thinking of the power that lay in
the oval of her face, in the fluffy tangle of her hair. _Ah! now he
knew._ With that upward glance she brought back his boy love, his
teacher whom he had worshiped as boys sometimes will, with a love as
pure as winter starlight. Yes, now it was clear. There was the same flex
of the splendid waist, the same slow lift of the head, and steady,
beautiful eyes.

As she talked, he was a youth of seventeen, he was lying at his
teacher's feet by the river while she read wonderful love stories. There
were others there, but they did not count. Then the tears blurred his
eyes; he remembered walking behind her dead body as it was borne to the
hillside burying ground, and all the world was desolate for him.

He became aware that Miss Powell was looking at him with startled eyes.
He hastened to apologize and explain. "Pardon me; you look so much like
a schoolboy idol--I--I seem to see her again. I didn't hear what you
said, you brought the past back so poignantly."

There was something in his voice which touched her, but before he could
go on they were joined by Mr. and Mrs. Blakesly and one of the other
teachers. There was a dancing light in Mrs. Blakesly's eyes as she
looked at Ware. She had just been saying to her husband: "What a
splendid figure Miss Powell is! How well they look together! Wouldn't it
be splendid if----"

"Oh, my dear, you're too bad. Please don't match-make any more to-day.
Let Nature attend to these things," Mr. Blakesly replied with manifest
impatience; "Nature attended to our case."

"I have no faith in Nature any more. I want to have at least a finger in
the pie myself. Nature don't work in all cases. I'm afraid Nature can't
in his case."

"Careful! He'll hear you, my dear."

"Where do we go now, Miss Powell?" asked Blakesly as they came to a halt
on the opposite side of the campus.

"I think they are all going to the gymnasium building. Won't you come?
That is my dominion."

They answered by moving off, Mrs. Blakesly taking Miss Powell's arm. As
they streamed away in files she said: "Isn't he good-looking? We've
known him for years. He's all right," she said significantly, and
squeezed Miss Powell's arm.

"Well, Lou Blakesly, you're