the woods on a fallen tree and
watched the sun slowly sink in scarlet glory behind the Palisades.

Neither had spoken for several minutes. He loved these rambles with his
slender golden-haired little pal, because it wasn't necessary to talk.
She had developed the rarest of all gifts among womankind, a genius for
silence. He wondered at it, too, for she was such a little chatterbox
as a kid.

A squirrel climbed down from a tree nearby where he was storing his
winter food, paused, and looked up in surprise at his unexpected
visitors. Stuart smiled and pressed Harriet's hand, nodding toward the
squirrel. She smiled an answer in silence. The faintest little flush
tinged the smooth white skin of her neck at the touch of his hand, but
he never noticed it.

A ruffled grouse suddenly sprang on the end of the log, cocked his head
in surprise and stood trembling with fear, uncertain whether the
intruders in his domain were friend or foe.

Harriet saw him first, gently pressed Stuart's hand and whispered:

"Look, Jim."

As Stuart turned his head, the bird rose with a roar that brought a cry
of terror to the girl's lips. Involuntarily she gripped his hand and
nestled closer.

"Scared you out of a year's growth, didn't he?"

"He certainly did."

"What a flood of memories the whir of those wings brings back to my
tired soul," Stuart dreamily cried; "of woods and fields and hills and
valleys of the South, where men and women yet live a sane human life!
I'd begun to forget there were any hills and fields."

"I wish I lived down South, Jim!"

"Why?"

"I don't know, it's just an idea of mine. I suppose I get it from
hearing you tell about their old-fashioned ways, their neighbourly
habits and the sweet home life."

The man was silent. The deep soft note of a mallard drake far above the
treetops caused him to look up.

He seized Harriet's arm.

"Watch now, little pal--the river--you'll see a flock of ducks swing
into that open space under the sun!"

He had scarcely spoken when the ducks circled the broad sweep of the
river in a graceful curve, their wings flashing in the rays of the
setting sun, and slowly one at a time dropped their feet and pitched in
the little smooth bay at the foot of the hill. The sun was just sinking
behind the tree tops on the Palisades, lighting the calm mirror-like
surface of the water with every colour of the rainbow.

"Now, look behind you, dear!" Stuart exclaimed.

"Why, it's the moon