's eyes dropped to earth.

"And you other mother," he said, "have you any message for me? Up where
you are can you sweep the world with understanding eyes and tell me why
my bluebird does not come? Does it know that this year your child and
not chance must settle my fate? Can you look across space and see if she
is even thinking of me? But I know that! She had to be thinking of me
when she wrote that line. Rather can you tell me----will she come? Do
you think I am man enough to be trusted with her future, if she does?
One thing I promise you: if such joy ever comes to me, I will know how
to meet it gently, thankfully, tenderly, please God. Good night, little
women. I hope you are sleeping well----"

He turned and went down the hill, entered the cabin and took from the
other box a mass of Parma violets. He put these in the pink bowl and
placed it on the table beside the Girl's bed. He stood for a time, and
then began pulling single flowers from the bowl and dropping them over
the pillow and snowy spread.

"God, how I love her!" he whispered softly.

At last he went out and closed the door. He was tired and soon fell
asleep with the night breeze stirring his hair, and the glamour of
moonlight flooding the lake touched his face. Clearly it etched the
strong, manly features, the fine brow and chin, and painted in unusual
tenderness the soft lines around the mouth. The little owl wavered its
love story, a few frogs were piping, and the Harvester lay breathing the
perfumed spring air deeply and evenly. Near midnight Belshazzar awakened
him by arising from the bedside and walking to the door.

"What is it, Bel?" inquired the Harvester.

The dog whined softly. The man turned his head toward the lake. A ray of
red light touched the opposite embankment and came wavering across the
surface. The Harvester sat up. Two big, flaming eyes were creeping up
the levee.

"That," said the Harvester, "might be Doc coming for me to help him try
out my bottled sunshine, or it might be my bluebird."

He tossed back the cover, swung his feet to the floor, setting each in a
slipper beside the bed, and arose, dressing as he started for the door.
As he opened the screen and stepped on the veranda a passenger car from
the city stopped, and the Harvester went down the walk to meet it. His
heart turned over when he saw a woman's hand on the door.

"Permit me," he said, taking the handle and bringing it back with a
sweep. A tall form arose, b