r house was afire," Ambrose announced huskily.

He had stopped so close to the girl that she caught both his hands in
hers, pressing one for an instant against her cheek.

"Something _is_ burning in the woods; it doesn't matter," she answered;
"but, oh, Ambrose, you have been such a long time in coming to me!"

The girl's eyes were shining, her figure perfectly distinct, and she
wore the primrose dress, yet Ambrose knowing this did not believe he had
dared look at her.

"I haven't come to you now," he defended stoutly; "I was just afeard to
trust you to Miner in a fire."

Then Emily laughed the low understanding laugh that was her greatest
charm, and all the while drawing her companion with her toward their
bench in front of her door, she sat down beside him, still keeping one
hand in his gently resisting fingers; there seemed to be no fear and no
shyness about Emily to-night; she was too exquisitely a thing of love.

"Yet you were willing to trust my life and soul and everything there is
about me to Miner," she said slowly. "Ah, isn't that like a man! But,
dear, Miner hasn't been near me since early this afternoon," she
continued, "and then he came for such a funny Miner reason. He wanted to
tell me that if ever I'd thought he had any leaning toward me, it wasn't
in no ways true. Because so far as _he_ could see there wasn't nothin' a
woman could be or do that could make up for her troublesomeness."

With this Emily quietly withdrew her hand and sitting still wondered if
Ambrose had even heard her, for he did not speak at first, yet when
turning he looked at her, the light of the fire making his face quite
clear, the girl's eyes filled with tears. "Has it been so bad as that?"
she whispered.

Ambrose nodded. "I ain't ever goin' to be able to tell you how I love
you, honey, but it seems like everything that has gone before in my life
and is comin' after is done made up fer by to-night."

Then after a little, when they had talked for a while and been silent a
while longer, Emily put her head down on Ambrose's shoulder so that he
might not see her face.

"I am thinking about Sarah; every woman thinks about the other woman
some time," she confessed.

"Little Sarah?" Ambrose waited. "Was you wantin' me to say I didn't love
her, honey? 'cause I can't. Would it 'a' been fairer to you, I wonder,
ef I hadn't had a heart big enough fer lovin' some one before ever I set
eyes on you? Sarah was young and needed me, and