e full of hope, and cheerful in
their hope. Here Peter would have delayed a few days; but Rose was
eager to go forward, and the next morning they were on the Southern
Line, and feeling that a few hours more would bring them face to face
with Antony.

It was mid-afternoon when they reached the small station at which they
were to alight, and Antony's lodge was about half a mile up the
mountain. Trees hid it from view, but the mailman walked with them to
the timber, and showed Peter the trail through it, which would lead
them directly to Mr. Van Hoosen's door. During this walk Rose became
very silent, and one not in sympathy with her would have thought her
cross. But Peter knew that all the issues of her life had come to this
one point; and he felt keenly for her. Rose looked frequently into his
face, and she held his hand tightly; but she was really incapable of
speech. Indeed, she was incapable of thought. All her nature was
absorbed by feeling.

The walk was not a long one, for in about ten minutes they came in
sight of a pretty log house, gabled and fancifully roofed, and of
quite pretentious dimensions. Wide piazzas ran around its one story;
and there were a few low, broad steps opposite the door. A man sat on
them sewing a buckle on a leather strap, and he did not cease his
employment or stand up as Peter and Rose reached him.

"Is Mr. Van Hoosen in?" asked Peter.

"Well, he is, and he isn't, sir. He was here an hour ago; but he's
gone to ask a few trout to take supper with him. I'm Jim Laker. Sit
down, both of you. Perhaps the lady would like to go inside."

But Rose positively declined this offer, and the man brought her a
rocking-chair and a glass of milk. Then Peter began to talk to Jim
about the wild-flowers of the district, and Rose sat watching and
waiting, and heart-sick with anxiety.

"Mr. Van Hoosen is longer than usual." "I thought he'd be back an hour
ago!" "'Pears like there must be something out of the ordinary!" Such
were the explanations made every now and then, for the satisfaction of
the visitors; and Rose had just begun to think Antony must have seen
her, and slipped back to the woods, when a long, clear whistle was
heard.

"That's him! He's coming down the mountain. I reckon he'll find the
door at the other side." With these words the man lifted his mended
strap, and walked through the house to its opposite door. Peter
followed him.

"I am Mr. Van Hoosen's father, Jim," he said, and Jim