become increasingly
vivid to her own mind. He used occasionally to rally her on her new
fancies, which he seemed to think quite harmless and suitable for a
girl, provided they did not cross his plans and fancies.

One day, when he was on his way to fish, he had happened to meet
Geordie, who was herding his cattle near the stepping-stones. Geordie
was a clever angler, and could wile more trout out of the river than
most people, and Walter had been delighted with his information as to
the fishing capabilities of the Kirklands river. Since that day they had
always been friends when they chanced to meet. Walter could never see
the sun-bleached locks gleaming in the distance without crossing
whatever gate or field happened to lie between, and going to have a talk
with him; so the boys had seen much more of each other than Grace knew.
She had often been obliged to leave "Walter to solitary rambles, owing
to her aunt's, increasing dependence on her during her long illness, so
it happened that she felt some surprise when she saw Walter more moved
than was his wont as he eagerly discussed plans for helping Geordie.

"I'll tell you what it is, Gracie," said Walter, in his blunt way, as
his quick eye detected Grace's slight surprise that he should have so
warmly espoused the cause of her Sunday-scholar. "You know I have seen
Geordie a good deal lately. We have had a lot of fishing talk, and all
that, and I like the chap--he's a first-rate fellow. I can't bear to
see a fellow so much better than myself trudging away behind those
beasts of Gowrie's day after day. And, besides, Grace, the fact is I owe
him something more than anything I may be able to do for him can ever
repay. It isn't every fellow, I can tell you, who would have had the
courage to say to me what he did," stammered Walter.

"What did he say, Walter?" asked Grace, more astonished than ever. "I
thought you hardly knew more of Geordie Baxter than his name. You know
he is my favourite scholar. But it is a long time since I have had a
quiet talk with him. I well remember the first conversation we had,
standing on the stepping-stones near that bend of the river where the
birches grow."

"Ah, yes, I know the place. It's curious, it was just about that very
spot I was going to tell you. I met him there, one day, not long ago,
and he happened to say that he had been asking Gowrie to stop sending
the cattle to that bit of pasture, because the stepping-stones made it a
th