n fresh summer green still hung affectionately
over it. Just beyond the mill nestled the gray log cabin with its
porch across the front; and, yes, there was Tildy pacing back and
forth at her spinning-wheel just as she used to do when Steve and
Nancy were children. She was of the thrifty type of mountain women,
always cleanly, always busy, making the most of the meagre means at
hand. To the young people it was as though some magic lantern had
flashed before them a scene from the past, and the two turned
involuntarily to one another with a rush of something tender upon
their faces.

Without speaking they rode to the door, and before Steve could
dismount Nancy had sprung from the saddle, caught up her skirt, and
was warmly shaking hands with the old woman, whom now she did not
often see. Steve quickly followed, and with the air of an old friend
also, put out his hand cordially to Tildy.

She took it doubtfully, saying:

"Howdye, stranger?"

[Illustration: "Tilda pacing back and forth at her spinning-wheel"]

"Why, don't you know me, Mother Greely?" Steve asked.

"I shore don't," she replied, pushing her spectacles up on her nose
and peering earnestly through them. "No," she said finally, "I nuver
seed ye afore; leastways I ain't no recollection of hit ef I ever
did."

The old man, who with the old mill had fallen into decrepitude, then
came slowly hobbling out, an inquiring look on his kind old face.
Tildy turned to him, raising her voice shrilly, for he heard with
difficulty and asked: "Nat, have ye ever seed this young man afore?"

"No," the old man returned after searching scrutiny.

Then Steve said: "Don't you remember an old gray horse that used to
come to the mill with a little girl in white pinafore on his back, two
bags of corn behind her, and a tousled, brown-haired boy of about
twelve walking beside her?"

"And the little girl was always on the verge of starvation, and only
molasses cakes could rescue her," put in Nancy laughing.

"Nancy and Steve," exclaimed the old woman, and then with the
intuition of her sex for romance, she further exclaimed: "An' ye hev
done got married!"

"No," Steve hastened to say; but the old man, more accustomed to his
wife's shrill voice, caught her affirmation, and failed to hear
Steve's denial.

"Well, now," said he, rubbing his hands together, greatly pleased,
"Tildy and me allus said ye'd marry some day; ye was jes' suited to
one another."

Nancy hated herself