at followed, what then? When Betty Jo's mission in the East was
accomplished, she was to return to Auntie Sue for the summer. Then--?

"Old Prince," of his own accord, was turning in at the gate, and Brian
awoke from his abstraction to see Auntie Sue and Judy waiting for him.

All during the evening meal and while he sat with Auntie Sue on the
porch overlooking the river, as their custom was, Brian was preoccupied
and silent; while his companion, with the wisdom of her seventy years,
did not force the conversation.

It was the time of the full moon, and when Auntie Sue at last bade him
good-night, Brian, saying that the evening was too lovely to waste in
sleep, remained on the porch. For an hour, perhaps, he sat there alone;
but his thoughts were not on the beauties of the scene that lay before
him in all its dreamy charm of shadowy hills and moonlit river. He had
no ear for the soft voices of the night. The gentle breeze carried to
him the low, deep-toned roar of the crashing waters at Elbow Rock; but
he did not hear. Moved at last by a feeling of restless longing, and the
certainty that only a sleepless bed awaited him in the house, he left
the porch to stroll along the bank of the river.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE SECRET OF AUNTIE SUE'S LIFE.

Brian Kent, strolling along the bank of the river in the moonlight,
and preoccupied with thoughts that were, at the last, more dreams than
thoughts, was not far from the house when a sound from behind some
near-by bushes broke in upon his reveries. A moment, he listened. Then
telling himself that it was some prowling animal, or perhaps, a bird
that his presence had disturbed, he went on. But he had gone only a few
feet farther when he was conscious of something stealthily following
him. Stepping behind the trunk of a tree, he waited, watching. Then he
saw a form moving toward him through the shadows of the bushes. Another
moment, and the form left the concealing shadow, and, in the bright
moonlight, he recognized Judy.

At first, the man's feeling was that of annoyance. He did not wish to be
disturbed at such a time by the presence of the mountain girl. But
his habitual gentleness toward poor Judy, together with a very natural
curiosity as to why she was following him at that time of the night,
when he had supposed her in bed and asleep, led him to greet her kindly
as he came from behind the tree: "Well, Judy, are you, too, out enjoying
the moonlight?"

The girl stopped