"That is Miss Barbara." He led the mountain girl toward her. "Barbara,
this is my friend--er--Madge." He was, himself, a little disconcerted.

The maiden from the lowlands bowed, but said no word. For an instant
Madge shrank back, but then she advanced with an unusual boldness. Her
spirit was aroused.

"Howdy, Miss Barbarous, howdy!" she exclaimed and held her hand out to
the handsomely dressed girl.

But Miss Barbara was annoyed by the whole happening. She felt that this
uncultivated country girl was getting far too much attention. The
child's unconscious pun upon her name infuriated her. She did not answer
her, but raised a lorgnette and stared at her.

Madge was ready with an instant sympathy. "Oh, that's why you couldn't
see, poor thing! Spectacles at your age!" Whether she really thought
this was the case, not even Frank could tell by looking at her.

Miss Holton was incensed. The haughty treatment she had planned to, give
the mountain girl had not had the results she had expected. "There's
nothing whatever the matter with my eyes!" she exclaimed hastily.

"Wouldn't think you'd need a machine to help you star-gaze at folks,
then," said the mountain girl. "But maybe it's the fashion in the
bluegrass."

Frank hurried up with Holton, planning a diversion. "This is Mr. Holton,
Madge."

"Howdy, sir," said she, and then started in astonishment. "Ain't I seen
your face before, sir?"

"Wal, I reckon not," said Holton most uneasily. "I was never hyar in
these hyar mountings afore."

She stepped closer to him, gazing straight at his grey eyes. They seemed
strangely to recall the very distant past, she knew not how. There were
other things about him which seemed much more immediately familiar,
although his more elaborate garb prevented her, for the moment, from
recognizing him as the stranger with the hammer, who had, that day of
the forest-fire, been tap-tapping on the rocks upon her pasture-land.
"Your eyes seem to bring something back." She plainly paled. She knew
that their suggestion was a dreadful one, but could not make it
definite.

Miss Alathea noted her agitation instantly, and hurried to her side.
"Poor child, what is the matter?"

Madge had regained control of her features, which, for an instant, had
shown plain horror. "Tain't nothin', ma'am. It couldn't be. It's all
over now." She smiled gratefully at Miss Alathea. "An' you're his aunt,
ain't you? I'd know you for his kin, anywhere. Why, somehow,