gone; heaps of dead leaves nestled close to
the trees, mute witnesses of a lost beauty; while here and there an
ox-eyed daisy glowed from out its somber company as a firefly shines
through the dusk of twilight. In the midst of all this sat Nannie in
her pretty suit trimmed in scarlet, looking like a bird of paradise
amid a flock of sparrows and other soberly clad creatures. Indeed, she
reminded one of a bird, with her head cocked on one side and her
air--not bold, but saucy.

Steve stood on the bank of the creek, perplexed for a moment. Then he
asked with a slight smile:

"What are you going to do about it?"

The girl lowered her head a trifle and looked out at him from 'neath
her curls, but she said nothing.

"Let us go home, Miss Branscome."

She continued looking at him without a word, and he returned her gaze
as he stood there with a gentle dignity that had its effect upon her.

"Barefooted?" she asked.

"No. I am going to explore this creek for a little distance, and you
can get ready while I'm gone."

"But suppose my shoes and stockings have floated down the stream? What
then?"

Steve was dismayed, but he maintained his quiet air.

"Suppose," persisted Nannie.

Just then Steve caught a glimpse of a tiny shoe at the foot of a near
tree.

"And suppose," he said, "they have not, but are awaiting their owner
over yonder?"

Nannie laughed and looked around and Steve walked on.

When he returned she was ready, and they set off together toward town.

"Were you really lost?" asked Steve.

"Yes. I've been wandering around for at least two hours."

"How came you to go out there?" he asked.

"I was expected to go somewhere else," she answered with one of her
elfin looks.

Steve was silent. Mentally he was wondering if this was the mainspring
of conduct in all women. He thought very likely it was. Mary often
asked his advice and then always took her own way, and it was
invariably opposite to the course he had indicated.

They had not gone much further, when, happening to look around for
something, Nannie caught a glimpse of her dress skirt and saw that it
was creased and stained with mud.

"There now! I've just ruined my gown!" she exclaimed, and then burst
into passionate tears.

"Miss Branscome! don't!" said Steve, who was fairly startled out of
his usual quiet into something akin to excitement. "Don't! I beg of
you. Nannie! don't cry, my dear!"

He failed to notice how he had spoken; so did