acted there for a ramble among the rocks and springs, from which
Coe's creek, a little stream, arose. From the old road a path led to
the fields of Judge Markham, about a fourth of a mile distant, which
was the shortest route from his house to Coe's.

* * * * *

On his return ramble, just as Bart was about to emerge from the woods
into the opening made by the old road from the west, he was surprised
to see Julia approaching him, going along that track towards home. She
was alone, and walking with a quick step. Lifting his hat, he stepped
forward towards the path in which she was walking. The meeting in the
wild, still woods, under the deepening shades of approaching night,
was a surprise to both; and, by the light in the eyes of the youth,
and warmer color in the face of the maiden, seemed not unpleasant to
either.

"This is a surprise, meeting you here alone," said Barton, stepping to
the side of the footway, a little in advance of her.

"It must be," answered Julia. "Poor old lady Coe is quite ill, and
I've been around there, and, as it was latish, I have taken this short
way home, rather than go all the way around the road."

"Indeed, if you are really going this way you must permit me to
attend you," said Bart, placing his gun against a stump. "It is a
good half-mile to the path that leads out to your father's, and it is
already darkening;" and he turned and walked by her side.

"It is really not necessary," said the girl, quite decidedly. "I know
the way, and am not in the least afraid."

"Forgive me, Miss Markham, but I really fear that you must choose
between my attendance out of these woods and turning back around the
road," replied Bart.

His manner, so frank and courteous, and his voice, so gentle, had
nevertheless, to her woman's ear, a vibration of the man's nerve of
force and will, to which the girl seemed unconsciously to yield. They
walked along. The mystery of night was weaving its weird charm in the
forest, and strange notes and sounds came from its depths, and these
young, pure natures found an undefined sweetness in companionship.
On they walked in silence, as if neither cared to break it. The young
girl at length said:

"Mr. Ridgeley"--not Barton, or his first name, as in her
childhood--what a heart-swoon smote the youth at the formal
address!--"Mr. Ridgeley, there is something I must say to you. My
father does not care to have me in your company, and I must