I reminded Him of it. We
can almost forget the hard work and the waiting for results," Asher said.

"Oh, we don't want to forget," Virginia replied. "Not a season's joy or
sorrow but had its uses for us. Do you remember that first supper here and
the sunflowers in the old tin can?"

"Yes, and Jim sitting outside so lonely. What a blessing Leigh has been to
his life. There they come now."

The next moment Jim's tall form filled the doorway.

"Good evening, folks. I can't resist the habit of the sod shack days to
come right into the kitchen. I understand that we forty-niners are to have
an old settlers' reunion while the young folks dance," he said.

There were lines of care on his face now, suggesting a bodily weariness
that might never grow less. The old hopefulness and purpose seemed fading
away. But the kindly light of the eyes had not disappeared, nor the direct
gaze of an honest man whose judgment might bring him to tragedy, while his
sense of honor was still sublime.

"Come in, Jim. Where are Pryor and Leigh? Did you take it you were all we
expected?" Asher asked.

"Leigh went in the front door like a Christian. As to Pryor," he
hesitated a moment. "I'll tell you later about him."

"Take this chair. I must help the children," Virginia said cordially as
she rose and left the kitchen.

Leigh Shirley was coming from the front hall as she entered the dining
room, and Virginia paused a moment to look at her. Something about Leigh
made most people want more than a glance. Tonight, as she stood in the
doorway, Virginia could think of nothing but the pink roses that grew in
the rose garden of the old Thaine mansion house of her girlhood. A vision
swept across her memory of Asher Aydelot--just Thaine's age then--of a
moonlit night, sweet with the odor of many blossoms, and the tinkling
waters of the fountain in the rose garden, and herself a happy young
girl.

Leigh's fair face was set in the golden brown shadows of her hair. On
either side of her square white forehead the sunny ripples kept the only
memory of the golden curls of babyhood. The darker eyebrows and heavy
lashes and the deep violet-blue eyes, the pink bloom of the cheeks, and
the resolute mouth gave to Leigh's face all the charm of the sweet young
girl. But the deeper charm that claimed the steady gaze lay in the spirit
back of the face, in the self-reliance and penetrating power, combined
with something of the artist's dreams; and swayed altogether