the judge, and he, in turn, was dividing it among the neighbors. Each
grain was accordingly treasured and valued like a grain of gold, and the
judge cautioned the boy to be careful in tying the bag; wheat in the
grain is a slippery thing to handle, and he wished none of this to be
lost.

"You must have a good, strong string--one that can't slip," said Ruth,
in her thoughtful, housewifely way. "Let me think--what kind would be
best?"

"Here!" the judge drew out his wallet, and took off the string that
bound it. "You may use this, David, but take care not to lose it. This
is the strongest, finest strip of doeskin--"

Ruth's sweet laughter chimed in, "It looks like minkskin--it's so
black!" touching it gingerly with the tips of her fingers.

The judge laughed, too. Everything that she said and did pleased him.
But he cautioned the boy again not to lose the string, and to be careful
to bring it back. William Pressley looked on in grave, indifferent
silence. A slight frown gathered on his brow when he saw Ruth trying the
knot, to make sure of its firmness, after the bag was tied. His gaze
darkened somewhat and followed her when she went to the door to see the
boy set out; and he watched her stand looking after him, with her hands
raised to shield her eyes from the rays of the setting sun. It
displeased William to see her show such regard for any one of so little
importance--the personality of the boy did not enter into the matter.
While gazing at her in this cold disapproval, he noted with increased
annoyance that she then turned and looked long and wistfully toward the
forest path. It did not occur to him that she might be expecting or
wishing to see some one riding along the path. He was merely irritated
at what seemed to him an indication of unseemly restlessness and
empty-mindedness. To his mind the unusual and the unseemly were always
one and the same. And it was eminently unseemly in his eyes that the
woman who was to be his wife should wish to look away from the spot in
which he was sitting. And then, his displeasure turned to anger when
Ruth, after standing still and gazing up the forest path, till he felt
that he must go out to her and utter the reproof that was on his lips,
did not come back to her seat by his side, but began instead to play
with the swan.

He sat motionless and silent, calmly biding his time to express the
disapproval which such childish behavior made incumbent upon him. Cold,
hard anger li