ed to see a small dark object, leading two long verging lines
of silvery ripples across the glittering current. This cleft the water
near the Shawnee Crossing, and might, not long before, have been the
plumed head of a warrior wanting his canoe. But since the warriors were
all gone so strangely and suddenly, this brown speck now crossing the
river must have been the antlered head of a deer swimming to the other
side, thus giving the hunters warning that these green hills would soon
be white with snow. If so, there was no other sign of nearing winter.
The sombre forest stretching away from the opposite shore had not yet
been brightened by a touch of frost. The leaves on the near-by trees,
the great oaks and elms and poplars standing around Cedar House, were
thinning only through ripeness, and drifting very slowly down to the
green and growing grass. On the tall maples perfection alone had culled
the foliage, so wreathing the bronze boughs with rarer garlands of
fretted gold.

No dread of wintry storms had yet driven away any of the birds that Ruth
fed every day on the sill of her chamber window. They were all there as
usual--the whole feathered colony--as if they wished to be polite, even
though they were not hungry on that sunny morning. The little ones, to
be sure, pecked a crumb now and then with a languid indifference. The
blue jays--as usual--were brazen in their ingratitude for any dole of
commonplace crumbs, while spicy seeds were still strewn by every scented
breeze. But shy and bold alike, they all flocked around Ruth's window,
and sat on the sill within reach of her hand, and cocked their pretty
heads as if it were feast enough only to look at her.

She had already been downstairs to fetch the birds' breakfast, and had
gone into the garden where the sweetest and reddest roses of all the
year were still blooming. She held a big bunch of them in her hand as
she stood at the open window and waved it at David in a morning
greeting, when she saw him crossing the yard. She came down the broad
stairs as he entered the great room, and she was wearing a fresh white
frock and her arms were full of the fragrant red roses.

The rest of the family were already in the room, and the table was laid
for breakfast. Ruth greeted each one with a smile, but she did not
speak, and began to move quietly about the table, giving those dainty
little finishing touches which no true woman ever leaves to a servant.
She put some of the ro