gh road from here to old Scythia's Roost, which is right
on our way to Rockhold. Sorry we cannot offer you a seat in the carriage
but you see there are but four seats and there are already five people
to fill them."

"Oh, sir, I should not expect such a thing," said the youth.

"But I was about to say if you will mount to a seat beside the coachman,
you will be heartily welcome to what used to be my own 'most favoryte'
perch in my younger days. And we can set you down at the foot of the
path leading up to old Scythia's hut," concluded Mr. Fabian.

"Oh, do, Rule! Please do!" pleaded Cora.

Regulas, with his sturdy independence of spirit, would most likely have
declined this favor had not the girl's beseeching face and voice
persuaded him to accept it.

"I thank you very much, sir," he said, and promptly climbed to the seat.

Three miles down the road the carriage was pulled up at the foot of the
highest point of the mountain range, and Rule came down from his perch
beside the coachman, stepped up to the carriage window, took off his
hat, thanked the occupants for his ride, and then drew a neat, white
inch-square parcel from his vest pocket, and holding it modestly, said:

"I hope you will accept this, Miss Cora."

The girl took it with a smile, but before she could open her lips to
express her thanks, the youth had bowed, turned from the carriage, and
was speeding his way up the rough mountain path, springing from crag to
crag up to the ledge on which old Scythia's hut stood.

Cora opened the parcel and found an inch-square little casket of red
morocco. She opened this with a spring, and found a small gold heart
reposing in a bed of white satin.

"How pretty it is!" she said softly to herself, as she took the trinket
from its case. "Look, grandma, what Rule has brought me for a Christmas
gift! A little gold heart! A pure gold heart! His is a pure gold heart,
is it not?" she added, earnestly, as she placed the trinket in the
lady's hand.

Mrs. Rockharrt looked at it with interest, and then passed it on to her
eldest son.

The ride was continued, and presently the carriage was driven off the
boat and up the avenue leading to the house. As the vehicle drew up
before the front doors, a pretty picture might have been seen through
the drawing-room windows.

A bright fireside, an old man reclining in his luxurious arm-chair; a
beautiful girl seated on a hassock at his feet, reading to him, and at
intervals lifti