orld bigger and
better and finer. Come, carry me out quickly. I am wild to go. Please
put my lovely flowers in water, Molly, only give me a few to hold."

The Harvester arranged the pink coverlet, picked up the Girl, and
carried her to the living-room.

"We will rest here a little," he said, "and then, if you feel equal to
it, we will try the veranda. Are you easy now?"

She nestled her face against the soft shirt and smiled at him. She
lifted her hand, laid it on his smooth cheek and then the crisp hair.

"Oh Man!" she cried. "Thank God you didn't give me up, too! I want life!
I want LIFE!"

The Harvester tightened his grip just a trifle. "Then I thank God, too,"
he said. "Can you tell me how you are, dear? Is there any difference?"

"Yes," she answered. "I grow tired lying so long, but there isn't the
ghost of an ache in my bones. I can just feel pure, delicious blood
running in my veins. My hands and feet are always warm, and my head
cool."

The Harvester's face drew very close. "How about your heart, honey?" he
whispered. "Anything new there?"

"Yes, I am all over new inside and out. I want to shout, run, sing, and
swim. Oh I'd give anything to have you carry me down and dip me in the
lake right now."

"Soon, Girl! That will come soon," prophesied the Harvester.

"I scarcely can wait. And you did say a saddle, didn't you? Won't it be
great to come galloping up the levee, when the leaves are red and the
frost is in the air. Oh am I going fast enough?"

"Much faster than I expected," said the Harvester. "You are surprising
all of us, me most of any. Ruth, you almost make me hope that you regard
this as home. Honey, you are thinking a little of me these days?"

The hand that had fallen from his hair lay on his shoulder. Now it slid
around his neck, and gripped him with all its strength.

"Heaps and heaps!" she said. "All I get a chance to, for being bothered
and fussed over, and everlastingly read mushy stuff that's intended for
some one else. Please take me to the veranda now; I want to tell you
something."

His head swam, but the Harvester set his feet firmly, arose, and carried
his Dream Girl back to outdoor life. When he reached the chair, she
begged him to go a few steps farther to the bench on the lake shore.

"I am afraid," said the man.

"It's so warm. There can't be any difference in the air. Just a minute."

The Harvester pushed open the screen, went to the bench, and seating
himself, dre