performing
the same office for Sydney, when Von Rittenheim reached them.

"We are come to beg a welcome fr-rom you for a few minutes, dear
Friedrich," said Hilda, in English.

"Which surely is yours," returned Von Rittenheim, kissing her hand. He
turned to Sydney, but she was busy doing something to her saddle, and
greeted him over her shoulder. His hand dropped to his side.

"Let me help you tie the horses, Bob," he insisted, and took Sydney's
animal from him.

"Dear Yonny," he murmured, in the unresponsive ear, as he fastened him
in the shade, and gave him a pat and a lump of sugar from his pocket.

"May we go in?" asked Hilda. "I want to see the state of your
storeroom," she added, with an air of protecting care that sat prettily
on her youthful face.

"_Natuerlich_," called Friedrich from Johnny's side. "The key of the
cupboard is in the table-drawer."

Sydney was alone on the porch when Friedrich came up the steps.

"Your view is lovely," she said. "I think I like Pisgah better from
this angle than from any other."

"Then do I, too," he replied, looking at her with his heart in his
eyes, for it was long since he had seen her, and to a lover yesterday,
when it is passed, is as a thousand years.

Sydney threw up her chin haughtily, and von Rittenheim thought ruefully
of the category in which undoubtedly she classed all his remarks of
that kind.

"Will you not enter?" he said. "Never have you honored my roof, I
think." And Sydney was glad to do so to avoid being alone with him.

They found Hilda leaning against the table opposite the cupboard, while
Bob recited the contents of the shelves, and Wendell wrote them down.

"Two packages of oatmeal."

"Oatmeal," echoed John.

"One tin of mustard."

"Mustard."

"A sack half-full of cornmeal."

"Cornmeal."

"What in the world are you doing?" cried Sydney, in amazement.

Friedrich looked annoyed. No one likes to have his house-keeping
arrangements too closely scrutinized.

"Friedrich, this list is going to help you ver-ry much to know what you
must or-rder from the--how you call him?" She appealed to John and Bob
in turn. "The grocy?"

Friedrich smiled to conceal his irritation.

"My way, Hilda, is to get more of something when I find empty the box
that holds it. I'm afr-raid I am not pr-rovident."

She returned his smile adorably.

"That I must teach you," she said, and Sydney and John turned away.

Sydney walked to the mantel-shelf, which