waved gaily as she passed the porch not noticing the
stranger who was somewhat screened by hanging vines, and then she
turned into the lane which led to the stable.

Steve's eyes glistened at the vision of the girl which time had so
charmingly matured, and starting up he exclaimed:

"Let me meet her at the stable where I used to help her on and off old
Dobbin's back," and with a bound he was off the porch and striding
towards the lane.

Nancy had slowed her pace along the shady driveway, and Steve, going
noiselessly through the grass, was at her side when she was ready to
dismount.

Smilingly he held out his hand for her to step upon, his glowing eyes
lifted to hers. Startled she drew back, her eyes held and fascinated,
however, by his intent gaze.

For a long instant they gazed, and then she breathed:

"Oh, Steve!"

Had the meeting occurred otherwise, she probably would never have
taken the tall, broad-shouldered, handsome young fellow for the Steve
of her childish memory, but she only saw and recognized those brown
eyes lifted to hers as they used to be in the old days when he took
her from Dobbin's back, with the same tender light in them.

"Yes, Nancy, it's Steve!" he exclaimed joyfully. "And you knew me
after all these years!"

A smile that held something sweet and sensitive flashed assent, and
then in reaction from the stir of undefined feeling, which she was not
ready to acknowledge, her eyes danced with sudden humour. Keeping her
saddle she glanced behind her to the pony's back, and said:

"Where are our bags of meal?"

Steve laughed in responsive gaiety, and in spite of himself let his
eyes rest upon her in kindling admiration.

"Oh, I see good grist which the mill of time has ground for you," he
said, and put out his palm again for her to step upon.

But she, flushing with girlish surprise at his ready gallantry, which
showed how completely the little mountain boy had been lost in the
cultured man, drew back once more and with equal quick wit said,
laughing:

"You will certainly find it has, and in good, substantial material if
you try to take my weight in your hand."

"The same mill has ground out for me an adequate amount of muscle," he
declared, adding with a hint of pleading in his voice, "You must let
me renew old times," and without further protest she lightly touched
his hand with her foot as she sprang from the pony's back.

"Weight doesn't count with so light a touch as that," la