law
gives you part of this and your lover, which same am I, gives you the
remainder, so you are privileged to come here at any hour as often as
you please. If you miss anything this evening, you have all time to come
in which to re-examine it."

"I'd like to live right here on this bridge," she said. "I wish it had a
roof."

"Roof it to-morrow," offered the Harvester. "Simple matter of a few
pillars already cut, joists joined, and some slab shingles left from the
cabin. Anything else your ladyship can suggest?"

"That you be sensible."

"I was born that way," explained the Harvester, "and I've cultivated the
faculty until I've developed real genius. Talking of sense, there never
was a proper marriage in which the man didn't give the woman a present.
You seem likely to be more appreciative of this bridge than anything
else I have, so right here and now would be the appropriate place to
offer you my wedding gift. I didn't have much time, but I couldn't have
found anything more suitable if I'd taken a year."

He held out a small, white velvet case.

"Doesn't that look as if it were made for a bride?" he asked.

"It does," answered the Girl. "But I can't take it. You are not doing
right. Marrying as we did, you never can believe that I love you; maybe
it won't ever happen that I do. I have no right to accept gifts and
expensive clothing from you. In the first place, if the love you ask
never comes, there is no possible way in which I can repay you. In the
second, these things you are offering are not suitable for life and work
in the woods. In the third, I think you are being extravagant, and I
couldn't forgive myself if I allowed that."

"You divide your statements like a preacher, don't you?" asked the
Harvester ingenuously. "Now sit thee here and gaze on the placid lake
and quiet your troubled spirit, while I demolish your 'perfectly good'
arguments. In the first place, you are now my wife, and you have a
right to take anything I offer, if you care for it or can use it in any
manner. In the second, you must recognize a difference in our positions.
What seems nothing to you means all the world to me, and you are less
than human if you deprive me of the joy of expressing feelings I am in
honour bound to keep in my heart, by these little material offerings. In
the third place, I inherited over six hundred acres of land and water,
please observe the water----it is now in evidence on your left. All my
life I have b