chance."

CHAPTER VII

THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAN

She rode casually down the Brightwater, and casually up the
Brightwater; she loitered at crossroads, and tarried at Thompson's
store; and not one glimpse did she catch of Philip Haig. Then one
morning she rose at dawn, as she had risen on the day of her fishing
exploit, with a purpose. But this time she dressed with exceeding
care, in a riding suit she had not yet worn in the Park. It was soft
dove-gray in color, with a long coat that showed the fine lines of her
figure and, when she rode, revealed snug-fitting breeches above the
tops of the polished boots,--a very different costume from the black
divided skirts and the short jacket in which she had galloped about
the Park.

Thus arrayed and resolute, she rode straight down the valley to the
branch road that had once tempted her to adventure; straight up the
hill; and straight through the woods until she halted once more in the
shade of the outpost pine that stood beyond its clustered fellows like
a sentinel above the valley. Her valley! She waited a moment,
wondering if it welcomed her. There was the stream, still flashing in
the sun, the meadows as brightly green as then, the grass of the
pasture running in bronze waves before the breeze. From the heart of a
wild rose a gorgeous red and brown butterfly flew out and fluttered
over her head. Not a dozen yards below her a meadow lark, unseen,
burst into sudden, thrilling song; and somewhere down the hill another
took up the strain, then another and another, until the air was
charged and quivering with melody, piercing sweet. She listened, her
heart throbbing to the music, until the chorus died away in dripping
cadences, and only a drowsy murmur came from the ripening fields to
mingle with the low droning of the pine organ on the hill. Yes! Her
valley welcomed her.

She rode on down the hill, with only a quick and embarrassed glance
into the Forbidden Pasture; and suddenly raised herself excitedly in
the stirrups. There again was the spiral of blue smoke; then a chimney
and a red roof; and finally the house itself, and barn and corrals,
all tucked away against the foot of the hill. Dismounting, she led
Tuesday back a few yards, and left him to feed along the roadside.
Then she returned, and seated herself on a rock, half-hidden by a
blackberry bush, to study the group of houses lying low and silent in
the sun.

There were more buildings than at Huntingt