ad my fun. No kick coming from me. Just called to
pay my respects,--that's all. So-long, Brian, old sport! Good-bye, my
dear!"

With an uncertain wave of her hand, she staggered through the doorway
and passed from their sight.

In the little log house by the river the two who had kept the fineness
of their love stood face to face.

For Betty Jo, the barrier which Brian Kent had maintained between them
to protect her from his love was no longer a thing unknown. But the
revelation, coming as it did, had brought no shadow of distrust or doubt
of the man to whom she had so fully entrusted herself. It had, indeed,
only strengthened her faith in him and deepened her love.

For one glorious triumphal moment the very soul of the man exulted in
the truth which Betty Jo made known to him. Then he turned slowly away,
for he dared not trust himself to look at her a moment longer.

With bowed head he paced up and down the room. He went to the table
which held Auntie Sue's sewing-basket, and fingered the trifles there.
Then, slowly, he passed through the open door to the porch, where Betty
Jo, through the window, near which she stood, saw him look away over the
river and the mountains.

Suddenly, she saw him start, and stare intently at some nearer object
that had caught his attention. As Betty Jo watched, he moved to the edge
of the porch, and, stooping, grasped the railing with his hands;--his
head and shoulders were thrust forward; his lips were parted; his
whole attitude was that of the most intense and excited interest. Then,
straightening up, he threw back his head, and laughed aloud. But his
laughter alarmed the girl, who ran to the door, crying, "What is it,
Brian?"

"Look!" he shouted, madly, and pointed toward the river. "Look, Betty
Jo!"

Martha Kent, alone in one of the clubhouse boats, was rowing with
drunken clumsiness toward the head of the Elbow Rock rapids.

The woman's friends had missed her, and, guessing, from some remark she
had made, where she had gone, had sent four men of the party after her;
for they realized that she was in no condition to be alone in a boat
on the river, particularly on that part of the stream near Auntie Sue's
place. After leaving Brian and Betty Jo, she had gone back to her boat
in the eddy at the foot of the garden, and was pulling out into the
stream when she saw her friends approaching. With a drunken laugh, she
waved her hand, and began rowing from them directly toward the