s who? Moreley? (I believe he has got one of those wandering fits,
poor fellow!) Well, Manton, old boy, I won't dispute that for a moment,
because--"

"Yet you say that she is not 'your style.'"

"Oh, I must get him home immediately," sighed Dudley inwardly,
commiserating his friend.

"She talks of you incessantly, Dud, and only seems happy when I am
answering her thousand and one questions about you."

(A young lady hidden among the rocks and pines blushes crimson as this
speech is wafted to her on the still evening air, and stamps her little
foot in vexatious indignation.)

"Her manner to-day," continued Manton, "showed plainly that your letter
this morning hurt her exceedingly."

"Miss Moreley! Letter this morning! _My_ letter! Come, now. By Jove!
Stop a moment. I believe-- Tell me, did you ever chance to see her
handwriting?"

"Yes: I've mailed several of her letters to you."

"You don't say so! Is that her writing?"

"Yes."

Dudley muttered something incoherent about "little wretch!" "Jane
Jennings!" and, pointing excitedly to the scene of his recent
discomfiture, asked, "Lives there, doesn't she?"

Manton, too astonished at his friend's remarkable conduct to speak,
nodded assent, and Dudley hastened away toward the house, shouting back,
"I'll see you later, old fellow!"

"Oh, don't! don't! don't!" came a shrill voice from among the rocks.

Both turned. "Why, here she is now!" cried Manton.

There was an awkward pause. The blush upon her face detracted nothing
from her beauty. Dudley felt drawn toward her as a needle is drawn by
the North Star. He walked quickly toward her, hesitated as she drew
back, stopped as she cast her eyes upon the ground, and presently said,
"Life would be a very sad thing, would it not, if we had no pleasant
memories of the past? I believe the thoughts of those happy days of our
childhood are the sweetest I have ever had. It brings them back to me
very vividly to find you now after so many years. Won't you even shake
hands with your old playmate?"

She put out her hand shyly and reluctantly, and he took it in both of
his.

"I'll walk on, Dud, and put this horse of yours in the barn," said
Manton. "I'll come back presently." And he left them, feeling that
perhaps the reconciliation which he was looking forward to between them
would be more complete if they were left alone.

"Are you angry with me for coming?" asked Dudley softly, when he had
gone.

"You should not h