ould then be a privilege only to speak to her.
This was, after all, not so extravagant a fancy as it might appear, for
romance, the mother of chivalry and many graces, still finds shelter in
the hearts of such men as him from the wide spaces of the newer lands.
Shrewd as they are, and practical, they see visions now and then, and,
what is more, prove them to be realities with bleeding hands and toil
incredible.

By and bye he put the photograph back in his pocket, and filled his
pipe again, while it was almost dark before he had smoked it out. The
thrush had gone, and only the ripple of the water broke the silence,
until he heard footsteps on the stones behind him. Then, looking
round, he saw a young woman moving towards the river, and he watched
her with a quiet interest, for his perceptions were a little sharper
than usual then, and it seemed to him that she was very much in harmony
with what he thought of as the key-tone of the place. She was tall and
shapely, and she moved with a quiet grace. When she stopped a moment,
poised upon a shelf of rock as though considering the easiest way to
the water, her figure fell into reposeful lines, but that was after all
only what he had expected, for he now remembered that he had
half-consciously studied the Englishwomen he had met in the West.

The Western women usually moved, and certainly spoke, with an almost
superfluous vivacity and alertness. There was in them a feverish
activity, which contrasted with the English deliberation. The latter
had sometimes exasperated him, but it was becoming comprehensible, and
taking on a more favourable aspect now. It was, he felt, born of the
tranquillity of this well-trimmed land, a steadfastness that progressed
slowly by system and rule, and he recognised that it would have
troubled his sense of fitness if this girl had clattered down across
the stones hurriedly and noisily.

As yet he could not see her face, but when she went on a little further
it became evident that she desired to cross the river, and was
regarding the row of stepping stones that stretched across it somewhat
dubiously. One or two had apparently fallen over, or been washed away
by a flood, for there were several rather wide gaps between them,
through which the stream frothed whitely. As soon as Wyllard noticed
that, he rose and moved towards her.

"You want to get across?" he said.

She was still glancing at the water, but although he did not think she
h