Standing in the
garden path, her yoke across her shoulders, her ears straining at the
sound she heard, the old poem returned to her as it had not for years.
She faltered over the words at the first attempt, but with the second
they rushed vividly to her mind and seemed set to the music of that
"pat-pat-pat" sound on the water. An unaccountable excitement seized
her--that new but thrilling sense of nearness and kinship to life and the
lovely meaning of spring. She was no longer a little girl looking on at
life; she was part of it; and something was going to happen after the
long shut-in winter!

And presently the McAlpin boat came in sight around Lone Tree Island
and in it stood Jerry-Jo quite alone, paddling straight for the
landing-place! For a moment Priscilla hardly knew him. The winter
had worked a wonder upon him. He was almost a man! He had the manners,
too, of his kind--he ignored the girl on the rocks.

But he had seen her; seen her before she had seen him. He had noted
the wonderful change in her, for eighteen is keen about fourteen,
particularly when fourteen is full of promise and belongs, in a
sense, to one.

The short, ugly frock Priscilla wore could not hide the beauty and grace
of her young body--the winter had wiped out forever her awkward length of
limb. Her reddish hair was twisted on the top of her head and made her
look older and more mature. Her uplifted face had the shining radiancy
that was its chief charm, and as Jerry-Jo looked he was moved to
admiration, and for that very reason he assumed indifference and gave
undivided attention to his boat.

CHAPTER II

With skill and grace Jerry-Jo steered his boat to the landing-place at
the foot of the garden. He leaped out and tied the rope to the ring in
the rocks, then he waited for Priscilla to pay homage, but Priscilla was
so absorbed with her own thoughts that she overlooked the expected
tribute of sex to sex. At last Jerry-Jo stood upright, legs wide apart,
hands in pockets, and, with bold, handsome face thrown back, cried:

"Well, there!"

At this Priscilla started, gave a light laugh, and readjusting her yoke,
walked down to the young fellow below.

"It's Jerry-Jo," she said slowly, still held by the change in him; "and
alone!"

"Yes." Jerry-Jo gave a gleaming smile that showed all his strong, white
teeth--long, keen teeth they were, like the fangs of an animal.

"Where are the others?" asked Priscilla.

"Uncle's dead," th