her tremble, and a remembrance
of Cousin Will's actions which made her tremble more yet. When she
heard him coming she started to fly, although now clothed beyond
reproach, but her knees deserted her, and she was forced to sink
back in her chair. Red came in whistling blithely--vainglorious
man!

He had _his_ suspicions, generated by the peculiar fervour Miss
Mattie had shown in regard to his hands.

"Mattie," quoth he, "I'm tired of living out there in the barn--I
want a respectable house of my own."

"Yes, Will," replied Miss Mattie, astonished that he should choose
such a subject at such a time.

"Yes," he continued, "and I want a wife, too. You often said you'd
like to do something for me, Mattie; suppose you take the job?"

How much of glancing at a thing in one's mind as a beautiful
improbability will ever make such a cold fact less astonishing?
Miss Mattie eyed him with eyes that saw not; speech was stricken
from her.

Red caught fright. He sprang forward and took her hand. "Couldn't
you do it, Mattie?" said he. There was a world of pleading in the
tone. Miss Mattie looked up, her own honest self; all the little
feminine shrinkings left her immediately.

"Ah, but I _could_, Will!" she said. Lettis came up on the stoop
unheard. He stopped, then gingerly turned and made his way back on
tip-toe, holding his arms like wings.

"Well, by George!" he murmured, "I'll come back in a little while,
when I'll be more welcome."

He spoke to Red in strong reproach that night, in the barn. "You
never told me a word, you old sinner!" said he.

"Tell you the honest truth, Let," replied Red earnestly, looking up
from drawing off a boot, "I didn't know it myself till you told me
about it."

They talked it all over a long time before blowing out the light,
but then the little window shut its bright eye, and the only life
the mid-night stars saw in Fairfield was Miss Mattie, her elbow on
the casement, looking far, far out into the tranquil night, and
thinking mistily.

THE END

By Stewart Edward White

THE BLAZED TRAIL

Mr. White has intermingled the romance of the forests with the
romance of a man's heart, making a story that is big and elemental,
while not lacking in sweetness and tenderness. It is an epic of
the life of the lumbermen in the great forests of the Northwest,
permeated in every line by out-of-door freshness and the glory of
the labor of the struggle with nature. It will appea