ell me, for her
lips moved, but she said nothing except to bid me good-night.

And where was Alf all this time? No one had spoken his name; Millie had
not asked me about him. I walked briskly in advance, half happy, but, of
course, with my mind on Guinea, whose low voice reached my ears through
the quiet that lay on the grass-land.

"Why don't you wait for us?" she cried. I turned about and waited, and
as she came up, holding Chyd's arm, she said: "I hope your success
to-night hasn't turned your head."

"And I hope that I don't deserve such a suspicion," I answered, not with
bitterness, but with joy to think that she had felt my apparent
indifference.

"Oh, I don't see anything to cause a spat," said Chyd, straining himself
to take long steps. "Good stuff, of course, but nothing to turn a man's
head--a mere bit of fancy paint. But you ought to write it. Good many
people like nonsense. I mean something light, you know. Two-thirds of
the human family make it their business to dodge the truth. But it is a
good thing for a school-teacher to make himself felt in that way."

"Perhaps Mr. Hawes doesn't intend to be a teacher all his life," Guinea
replied, speaking in kindliness, but with no interest, as to whether or
not I was to remain a pedagogue.

"God forbid," I replied. And the young doctor gave me a sarcastic
cough. "Man ought to do what he's best fitted for," said he. "Trouble is
that a man generally thinks that he's fitted for something that he
isn't--hates the thing that he can do best."

"Your knowledge of the practical fortifies you against any advance that
I might make," I replied. "I don't pretend to be practical."

"Hum, I should think not," he rejoined. "Good deal of a dreamer, I take
it. And you are in the right place. Everything dreams here, the farmers
and even the cattle. Going to pull down the fence, eh? Guinea'll be over
by the time you get it down. What did I tell you? Regular fawn, eh?"

We had passed out of the meadow. They waited in the road until I
replaced the rails which I had let down. The road ran along the ravine
and home was in sight. I looked across toward the smooth old rock and
saw a dark object upon it. We went down into the ravine and as we were
coming out, a voice cried: "Is that you, Bill?" And instantly Guinea
answered for me. "Yes, Alf. And here's Chyd."

"How are you, Chyd?" he shouted, and then he added: "Bill, I want to see
you a minute. Stay where you are and I'll come do