ed down from the camp; over all lay
the dreaming quietness of the season and the wild.

Allie sat down upon the rock, but Neale, changing his mind, stood beside
her. Still he did not trust himself to face her. He was unsettled,
uncertain. All this was like a dream.

"So you watched for me?" he asked, gently.

"For hours and days and weeks," she sighed.

"Then you--cared--cared a little for me?"

She kept silence. And he, wanting intensely to look up, did not.

"Tell me," he insisted, with a hint of the old dominance. He remembered
again the scene at the crossing of the brook. Could he control this
wonderful girl now?

"Of course," she replied.

"But--how do you care?" he added, more forcibly. He felt ashamed, yet he
could not resist it. What was happening to him?

"I--I love you." Her voice was low, almost faltering, rich with
sweetness, and full of some unutterable emotion.

Neale sustained a shock. He never could have told how that affected him,
except in his sudden fury at himself. Then he stole a glance at her.
Her eyes were downcast, hidden under long lashes; her face was soft and
sweet, dreaming and spiritual, singularly pure; her breast heaved under
the beaded buckskin. Neale divined she had never dreamed of owing him
anything except the maiden love which quivered on her tremulous lips and
hovered in the exquisite light of her countenance. And now he received
a great and impelling change in his spirit, an uplift, a splendid and
beautiful consciousness of his good fortune. But what could he say to
her? If only he could safely pass over this moment, so he could have
time to think, to find himself. Another glance at her encouraged him.
She expected nothing--not a word; she took all for granted. She was lost
in dreams of her soul.

He looked down again to see her hand--small, shapely, strong and brown;
and upon the third finger he espied his ring. He had forgotten to look
to see if she wore it. Then softly he touched it and drew her hand in
his.

"My ring. Oh, Allie!" he whispered.

The response was a wonderful purple blaze of her eyes. He divined
then that his ring had been the tangible thing upon which she had
reconstructed her broken life.

"You rode away--so quickly--I had no chance to--tell," she replied,
haltingly and low-voiced. All was sweet shame about her now, and he had
to fight himself to keep from gathering her to his breast. Verily this
meeting between Allie and him was not what he had