At six o'clock the hills in their soft carpet of dull browns and greens were gently warming under the sun's first rays. At seven the early train that Dr. Kemp purposed taking would leave. Ruth, with this knowledge at heart, had softly risen and left the cottage. Close behind the depot rose a wooded hill. She had often climbed it with the Tyrrell boys; and what was to prevent her doing so now? It afforded an excellent view of the station.
It was very little past six, and she began leisurely to ascend the hill. The sweet morning air was in her nostrils, and she pushed the broad hat form her happy eyes. She paused a moment, looking up at the wooded hill-top, which the sun was jewelling in silver.
"Do you see something beautiful up there?"
With an inarticulate cry she wheeled around and faced Dr. Kemp within a hand's breadth of her.
"Oh," she cried, stepping back with burning cheeks, "I did not mean--I did not expect--"
"Nor did I," he said in a low voice; "chance is kinder to us than ourselves--beloved."
She turned quite white at the low, intense word.
"You understood me last night--and I was not--deceived?"
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good old blooms of northern Europe which My Dear had so
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night before. A change in the wind may bring the gift of
