branch of a young willow tree, followed her
into the cabin. "Why, you're hardly damp," he said, with his hand on her
arm. "I got the worst of it."

He crossed over to the great open fireplace, and kneeling upon the hearth
raked a hollow in the old ashes; then he kindled a blaze from a pile of
lightwood knots, and stood up brushing his hands together. "Sit down and
get warm," he said hospitably. "If I may take upon myself to do the duties
of free Levi's castle, I should even invite you to make yourself at home."
With a laugh he glanced about the bare little room,--at the uncovered
rafters, the rough log walls, and the empty cupboard with its swinging
doors. In one corner there was a pallet hidden by a ragged patchwork quilt,
and facing it a small pine table upon which stood an ash-cake ready for the
embers.

The laughter was still in his eyes when he looked at Betty. "Now where's
the sense of going walking in the rain?" he demanded.

"I didn't," replied Betty, quickly. "It was clear when I started, and the
clouds came up before I knew it. I had been across the fields to the woods,
and I was coming home along the turnpike." She loosened her hair, and
kneeling upon the smooth stones, dried it before the flames. As she shook
the curling ends a sparkling shower of rain drops was scattered over Dan.

"Well, I don't see much sense in that," he returned slowly, with his gaze
upon her.

She laughed and held out her moist hands to the fire. "Well, there was more
than you see," she responded pleasantly, and added, while she smiled at him
with narrowed eyes, "dear me, you've grown so much older."

"And you've grown so much prettier," he retorted boldly.

A flush crossed her face, and her look grew a little wistful. "The rain has
bewitched you," she said.

"You may call me a fool if you like," he pursued, as if she had not spoken,
"but I did not know until to-day that you had the most beautiful hair in
the world. Why, it is always sunshine about you." He put out his hand to
touch a loose curl that hung upon her shoulder, then drew it quickly back.
"I don't suppose I might," he asked humbly.

Betty gathered up her hair with shaking hands, which gleamed white in the
firelight, and carelessly twisted it about her head.

"It is not nearly so pretty as Virginia's," she said in a low voice.

"Virginia's? Oh, nonsense!" he exclaimed, and walked rapidly up and down
the room.

Beyond the open door the rain fell heavily; he heard