.

"Bold, did you say? Am I bold? Most women have laughed at my angular
shyness."

"Laughed at you; how could they?"

"On account of my peculiarities. I was called an old bachelor before I
was twenty, and as I grew older I considered myself one, irredeemably,
for I never expected to marry."

"I should have thought your life full of romance, wandering about, as
you must have done."

"My life has been a tread-mill," he answered.

"But you see so many beautiful things in nature."

"The horse on the tread-wheel can look through a crack, and see a
flower growing outside."

"Has your life been really hard?" she asked.

"Yes, desperately hard, at times."

"But you don't show it. You seem so kind and gentle."

"If I do, it is out of charity for those who have suffered."

"But I don't see any sign of your suffering, you write so
beautifully."

"I had to suffer before I could write. The heart cannot express a joy
until it has felt a sorrow."

She gave him her frank, admiring eyes. "Why haven't I met such men as
you are? I have not lived here all my life; I have travelled with my
aunt, who knew the world, and she took me to many strange places, and
I met many men, but they didn't appeal to me or interest me any more
than those I met at home. It was all the same old commonplace
flattery."

"You have never found a man so interesting because you have never had
the opportunity to see a man standing in the light I stand in now," he
replied. "Our relationship has given me a new color."

She shook her head: "I have thought of that, but I believe that I
should have found you interesting, even if I should have met you in
the ordinary way."

"No, you would never have allowed yourself the time. Some sobering
process was required."

"Yes, that is true," she frankly admitted.

In the tree tops above them the birds were riotous. The air was
scented with a sharp sweetness from the wild mint that grew at the
edge of the water.

"Has Mr. Sawyer been to see you?"

"He came today."

"Tell me about his visit. What did he say?"

"He wanted to buy me--wanted to hire me to go away."

"Tell me all about it. Remember, we are friends."

"He brought a check for five hundred dollars, signed by your father."

"I think you have told me enough," she said.

A flock of sheep came pattering along the road that skirted the
hill-top, not far away. A bare-footed boy shouted in the dust behind
them.

"Not much more remains to be