" His sister involuntarily accentuated
the likeness he had suggested by growing pinker than before.

"It was Uncle Tim, then. He got worried about you, and wrote me so. He
must have been off his base. You never looked healthier. But, see here,
miss--you don't do this thing again--understand? We'll never keep house
here another winter without you!"

* * * * *

Sally had come home on Saturday night. On Sunday morning the rain had
ceased, and the sun was shining brilliantly. Before breakfast she was out
in the garden. Spying her there as he looked out of his window, Max
hastened his dressing and went out to join her.

"Looks fairly well in order, eh?" he questioned.

Sally remembered certain information sent her in one of Janet's letters.
"Indeed it does. And you made it so. That pleases me more than I can tell
you, Max."

"How do you know I did?"

"Guessed it from your expression--and a hint I had had. Didn't you rather
enjoy doing it?"

"Much more than I should have expected," he was forced to admit under the
scrutiny of her eyes.

"How I wish you could leave the bank and join the boys in the work
out here. Don't you almost wish so yourself?" she demanded, thrusting
her hand through his arm, as he paced along, his hands in his pockets.
The old garden paths were quite wide enough for two, when they walked
close together.

Max looked down at her. "To tell the truth, I'm beginning to wish so
too."

This, from Max, was a great admission. Sally's eyes sparkled with
pleasure. "Oh, can't you?" she cried.

"I don't see how I can, this year. To be sure, Jarve's paying all the
expenses and taking all the responsibility these first two years,
according to agreement, but I can't lie down on him. Of course it's all
outgo and no income until we get the strawberries to bearing next year.
Meanwhile the family has to be supported, and what timber we've thought
best to sell won't do that, if all of us stop work. It's all right for Al
and Bob to spend this season on the farm, for Jarve would have to hire
somebody anyway, but it's different with me, and my salary is more than
they could earn, both together, at their old jobs. No--I must grind away
another year. But then--"

"Then you'll come?"

"Yes, and be glad to."

"I'm so delighted to hear you say that!"

"I need the change. I realize, at last, what a bear I've been these three
years. I'm tired of being a bear. It's half nerves, I bel