gone into the office with my father and been admitted to the Bar it
would have been better for me. I wouldn't have been on the farm then," he
said regretfully.

"Then why didn't you go into the law? You could have made it by yourself,"
Elizabeth said, understanding that it hurt John Hunter's pride to farm.

The young man shrugged his dripping shoulders and pulled the quilt tighter
around them as he answered indifferently:

"Not very well. Father left very little unmortgaged except mother's own
property, and I thought I'd get out of Canton. It ain't easy to live
around folks you know unless you have money."

"But you could have worked your way through college; lots of boys do it,"
the girl objected.

"Not on your life!" John Hunter exclaimed emphatically. "I don't go to
college that way." After a few moments' musing he added slowly, "I'll make
money enough to get out of here after a while."

"I only wish I'd had your chance," Elizabeth said with a sigh.

"Let's talk about something cheerful," young Hunter replied, when he
realized that the ride was nearly over. "When may I come to see you
again?" he asked. "You are to see a good deal of me this summer if you
will permit it."

Elizabeth Farnshaw caught a happy breath before she replied. He wanted to
come; she was to see much of him this summer if she would permit it! Could
nature and fate ask for more?

When Elizabeth arrived, the old couple bustled about the bright carpeted
room, making it comfortable, and cooing over the return of their prodigal,
till a heaven of homeness was made of her advent.

Half an hour later Elizabeth, dry and warm and with a cup of tea beside
her which she had found it easier to accept than to refuse, looked about
her and invoiced the changes of four years which in her preoccupied state
of mind during her former visit she had neglected to think upon. There
were many little changes in the household arrangement, due to the
observations of the winter spent in Topeka. In personal appearance Aunt
Susan herself showed improvement.

When Elizabeth's attention was turned to Nathan, however, the glad little
enumeration became a more sober one. In the days when they had fed the
motherless Patsie together Nathan Hornby had been portly, even inclined to
stoutness, and his face, though tough from wind and sun, inclined to be
ruddy. The genial gray eyes had sparkled with confidence in himself and
good-will toward all about him. At Silas Chamberla