? Well, I reckon I am--but it seems mighty queer when you
first think of it. And--the folks would say evil things of me because
you took care of me and didn't risk my neck on the bad roads in the
dark? What could they-all say?"

For the life of him Lans could not frame the words with that lovely
face turned to his. "You must trust me, Cynthia. I will protect you
and you must protect me."

"I--protect you? You are right funny. What could they-all do to you?"

"They could horsewhip me; tar and feather me----"

"Oh! no!" And now the light faded from the girl's face. Once at The
Forge a man was treated so--yes! there was something about a woman, too!

The storm had raged all night. Lans made a fire and laughed and joked
the dark lonely hours through. After midnight Cynthia fell asleep from
sheer exhaustion and Lans placed his overcoat under her head while he
smoked by the fire and grew--as imagination fed upon itself--into a
being so immaculate and saint-like that the morning found him prepared
for the final and dramatic climax. He awoke Cynthia, touched her as if
she was a spirit, and took her to the little town known as Sudley's Gap
and there--married her!

Cynthia was excited and worn from her night's experience, but the
ceremony and Lans's manner made it all seem like a new play. They were
always playing together, he and she. Big brother and little sister
lived in the moment and had no care for the past or future. They had
breakfast together, after the visit to the missionary, and it was
afternoon before they started for home. At last Cynthia grew very
quiet--the play had tired her; she was frightened and unhappy. How
could what had happened secure Lans from the anger of The Hollow folks,
if staying away were wrong? It was all very foolish. They could have
gone to Sandy and explained. Already Sandy stood in the girl's life as
safety and strength.

Just then Lans turned and looked at her. To him it was beyond
comprehension that a girl of nineteen could be what Cynthia was.
Ignorant she might be, surely was, but she was vital and human; she had
witnessed life and its meaning in The Hollow--she was primitive and
childish--but she understood!

Lans felt himself, by that time, to be about the highest-minded man any
one could hope to find. He had practised great self-repression; he had
accepted his future life suddenly, but with all its significant
responsibilities. When he reached The Hollow t