ment later a small, sturdy boy
appeared. A woman accompanied him. She had slipped a foot into the
river, and thus awakened the amusement of her companion.

Chris steadied herself after the mishap, balanced her basket more
carefully, then stooped down to pick some of the berries that had
scattered from it on the bank. When she rose a man with a brown face and
soft grey eyes gleaming through gold-rimmed spectacles appeared
immediately before.

"Thank God I see you alive again. Thank God!" he said with intense
feeling, as he took her hand and shook it warmly. "The best news that
ever made my heart glad, Chris."

She welcomed him, and he, looking into her eyes, saw new knowledge
there, a shadow of sobriety, less of the old dance and sparkle. But he
remembered the little tremulous updrawing of her lip when a smile was
born, and her voice rang fuller and sweeter than any music he had ever
heard since last she spoke to him. A smile of welcome she gave him,
indeed, and a pressure of his hand that sent magic messages with it to
the very core of him. He felt his blood leap and over his glasses came a
dimness.

"I was gwaine to write first moment I heard 'e was home. An' I wish I
had, for I caan't tell 'e what I feel. To think of 'e searchin' the wide
world for such a good-for-nought! I thank you for your generous
gudeness, Martin. I'll never forget it--never. But I wasn't worth no
such care."

"Not worth it! It proved the greatest, bitterest grief of all my
life--but one--that I couldn't find you. We grew by cruel stages to
think--to think you were dead. The agony of that for us! But, thank God,
it was not so. All at least is well with you now?"

"All ban't never well with men an' women. But I'm more fortunate than I
deserve to be, and can make myself of use. I've lived a score of years
since we met. An I've comed back to find't is a difficult world for
those I love best, unfortunately."

Thus, in somewhat disjointed fashion, Chris made answer.

"Sit a while and speak to me," replied Martin. "The laddie can play
about. Look at him marching along with that great branch of king fern
over his shoulder!"

"'T is an elfin cheel some ways. Wonnerful eyes he've got. They burn me
if I look at'em close," said Chris. She regarded Timothy without
sentiment and her eyes were bright and hard.

"I hope he will turn out well. Will spoke of him the other day. He is
very fond of the child. It is singularly like him, too--a sort of li