ing fellow he was,
and how well he could talk; how thoroughly equipped he was to take up
the question of improving farm life, the lives of farmers and their
families--the question of all questions for her. Surely, Mr. Flagg bore
the stamp of destiny! He was the man of all men to make her work a
complete success. How fortunate she was to secure his valuable services.
How strange, that after a brief acquaintance of only two days, she
should have such perfect confidence in a comparative stranger. Yet, she
did not doubt his integrity; she knew he was loyalty itself; she
intuitively felt that she could trust him implicitly--he would never
betray her interests under any circumstances. She knew from his every
look, tone and gesture that he admired her intensely, devotedly. Her own
feelings, she did not care to analyze. With a sigh, more of pleasure
than weariness, she composed herself for the night and was soon lost in
sleep.

CHAPTER V.

FAIRY FERN COTTAGE.

One week has passed since the events narrated in the previous chapter.
At Cornwall on the Hudson, on a West Shore train speeding north, we find
Fillmore Flagg; his mission at Washington successfully accomplished, the
letter of introduction from Bitterwood & Barnard secured. In another
short hour he will be at Newburgh. Will the lovely face of Fern Fenwick
be the first to greet him? As the moments fly by, his heart beats
faster. He feels the surging tide of his all-absorbing love for this
beautiful woman, thrilling and permeating his entire being. He tries to
be calm, to think what he ought to say that would be fitting and
appropriate; he knows his eyes are blazing and his cheeks glowing with
an unwonted fire, still his thoughts refuse to flow into the satisfying
forms of speech he most desires to use at the coming meeting, which
seems to him to be the marking of a great crisis in his life. Ah! There
is the whistle sounding! The speed of the train is checked as it
approaches the station. He steps on to the platform while the train is
still moving. He beholds many upturned faces in the surging crowd
between him and the doorway of the ladies' waiting room, but Miss
Fenwick he cannot see. Will he ever reach that room? Has anything
happened to her? A great fear contracts his heart, he fancies he fairly
staggers as he enters the door. In an instant he is suffused with a
great joy. By the window, awaiting his approach, stands Fern Fenwick,
the perfect picture of cool