ddenly from the brown
full throat to the line of her hair, and the scarlet that lingered in
her cheeks was wilder than the red of winter holly.

Surely--surely there was no reason under Heaven why the little bird
should sing about a hay-camp!

But sing of it he did with a swelling throat and a melodic quiver of
nerve and sinew, and a curious dialogue followed.

"A hay-camp is a very foolish thing, to be sure!" sang the bird with a
dulcet shower of plaintive notes.

"To be sure," said the voice of the girl's conscience, "to be sure it
is. But how very like him!"

"But--but there was the bullet--"

"I have often thought of it," owned the Voice.

"A gallant gentleman must see that his lady comes to no harm. 'Tis the
way of gallant gentlemen--"

"Hum!"

"And he never once spoke of his discomfort on the long hot road, though
a hay-camp is subject to most singular mishaps."

"I--I have often marveled."

"He is brave and sturdy and of charming humor--"

"A superlative grain of humor perhaps, and he's very lazy--"

"And fine and frank and honorable. One may not forget Arcadia and the
rake of twigs."

"One may not forget, that is very true. But he seeks to make himself
out such a very great fool---"

"He cloaks each generous instinct with a laughing drollery. Why did
you hum when you cooked his supper and called to him through the trees?"

"I--I do not know."

"'Twas the world-old instinct of primitive woman!"

"No! No! No! It was only because I was living the life I love the
best. I was very happy."

"Why were you happier after the storm?"

"I--I do not know."

"You have scolded with flashing eyes about the hay-camp--"

"But--I--I did not mind. I tried to mind and could not--"

"That is a very singular thing."

"Yes."

"Why have you not told him of the tall sentinel you have furtively
watched of moonlit nights among the trees, a sentinel who slept by day
upon a ridiculous bed of hay that he might smoke and watch over the
camp of his lady until peep o' day?"

"I--do not know."

"You are sighing even now for the van and a camp fire--for the hay-camp
through the trees--"

"No!" with a very definite flash of perversity.

"Where is this persistent young nomad of the hay-camp anyway?"

"I--I have wondered myself."

But with a quiver of impatience the horse had pawed the ground and the
tiny bird flew off to a distant clump of palmetto.

Diane rode hurriedly off into the flat-woods.