were young men and girls resting on
the banks and several sitting on the bridge. Automobiles were parked
back on the bank.

Lane swore under his breath. He recognized Margaret, Dick Swann and
several other old-time acquaintances and friends of Mel's.

"Who is it?" asked Mel. Her back was turned. She did not look round,
though she heard voices.

"It doesn't matter," said Lane, calmly.

He would have given the world to spare Mel the ordeal before her, but
that was impossible. He put more power into his stroke and the canoe
shot ahead.

It passed under the bridge, not twenty feet from Margaret Swann. There
was a strange, eager, wondering look in Margaret's clear eyes as she
recognized Mel. Then she seemed to be swallowed up by the green
willows.

"That was damned annoying," muttered Lane to himself. He could have
met them all face to face without being affected, but he realized how
painful this meeting must be to Mel. These were Mel's old friends. He
had caught Margaret's glance. Old memories came surging back. His gaze
returned to Mel. Her face was grave and sad; her eyes had darkened,
and there was a shadow in them. His glance sought the green-lined
channel ahead. The canoe cut the placid water, turned the last bend,
and glided into the swift river. Soon Lane saw the little cottage
shining white in the light of the setting sun.

One afternoon, as Lane was returning from the woods, he met a car
coming out of the grassy road that led down to his cottage. As he was
about to step aside, a gay voice hailed him. He waited. The car came
on. It contained Holt Dalrymple and Bessy Bell.

"Say, don't you dodge us," called Holt.

"Daren Lane!" screamed Bessy.

Then the car halted, and with two strides Lane found himself face to
face with the young friends he had not seen for months. Holt appeared
a man now. And Bessy--no longer with bobbed hair--older, taller,
changed incalculably, struck him as having fulfilled her girlish
promise of character and beauty. "Well, it's good to see you
youngsters", said Lane, as he shook hands with them.

Holt seemed trying to hide emotion. But Bessy, after that first
scream, sat staring at Lane with a growing comprehending light in her
purple eyes.

Suddenly she burst out. "Daren--you're _well_!... Oh, how glad I am!
Holt, just look at him."

"I'm looking, Bess. And if he's really Daren Lane, I'll eat him,"
responded Holt.

"This is all I needed to make to-day the happiest day of