er. "There is to be no talk of
obligations between you and me. Your presence here and your growing
trust in me are all I ask at the hands of fate at present. Long ago I
learned to 'labour and to wait.' By the way----here's my most difficult
labour and my longest wait. This is the precious gingseng bed."

"How pretty!" exclaimed the Girl.

Covering acres of wood floor, among the big trees, stretched the lacy
green carpet. On slender, upright stalks waved three large leaves, each
made up of five stemmed, ovate little leaves, round at the base, sharply
pointed at the tip. A cluster of from ten to twenty small green berries,
that would turn red later, arose above. The Harvester lifted a plant
to show the Girl that the Chinese name, Jin-chen, meaning man-like,
originated because the divided root resembled legs. Away through the
woods stretched the big bed, the growth waving lightly in the wind, the
peculiar odour filling the air.

"I am going to wait to gather the crop until the seeds are ripe," said
the Harvester, "then bury some as I dig a root. My father said that was
the way of the Indians. It's a mighty good plan. The seeds are delicate,
and difficult to gather and preserve properly. Instead of collecting and
selling all of them to start rivals in the business, I shall replant my
beds. I must find a half dozen assistants to harvest this crop in that
way, and it will be difficult, because it will come when my neighbours
are busy with corn."

"Maybe I can help you."

"Not with ginseng digging," laughed the Harvester. "That is not woman's
work. You may sit in an especially attractive place and boss the job."

"Oh dear!" cried the Girl. "Oh dear! I want to get out and walk."

Gradually they had climbed the summit of the hill, descended on the
other side, and followed the road through the woods until they reached
the brier patches, fruit trees; and the garden of vegetables, with big
beds of sage, rue, wormwood, hoarhound, and boneset. From there to the
lake sloped the sunny fields of mullein and catnip, and the earth was
molten gold with dandelion creeping everywhere.

"Too hot to-day," cautioned the Harvester. "Too rough walking. Wait
until fall, and I have a treat there for you. Another flower I want you
to love because I do."

"I will," said the Girl promptly. "I feel it in my heart."

"Well I am glad you feel something besides the ache of fever," said the
Harvester. Then noticing her tired face he added: "Now