with you?"

Now they were slowly walking toward the gap in the yard fence which Old
Jasper called the gate.

"The way is short, but it lies over the creek and through the brambles,"
he said, and after a pause, looking fondly into her eyes he added, out
of his great store-house of care and sympathy: "The thorns would thirst
for your blood."

"They have drunk yours and your thorns shall be mine."

They stood at the gap in the fence. "Yes," he said, "when I have more
than I can take care of. The fact is--what shall I call you?"

"Mary," she answered.

"Mary," he repeated. "It is sweet with the memory of many a home and
hallowed by the Christian's hope. And, Mary, when I come back I will
bring a preacher and a paper from the law. You understand?"

"Yes, I understand, and the understanding is beautiful and precious."
She stood so near and he was so lost--so near that her lips were close
to his and he kissed her and started as if the earth had shaken beneath
his feet.

"And--and now, Mary, I won't have to beg your pardon when I call you by
pet names."

"No, Jim."

"And we will surprise them, Mary."

"Yes, Jim."

He kissed her again and hastened down the road. She looked after him
until his head sank down behind a hill, and then for a long time she
stood there, leaning upon the fence, and suddenly, with her hands
clasped, she cried: "Oh, miracles were wrought in the wilderness."

CHAPTER XVI.

THE APPOINTMENT COMES.

While she was still standing there, musing over her happiness, Lije
Peters, peering about, came into the yard. He cleared his throat and she
looked at him, and moving further off, she sat down in a rocking-chair
which she had brought from the house earlier in the day. With a show of
respect Peters took off his hat.

"Howdy do, ma'm? I don't believe you an' me air very well acquainted."

"Our acquaintance hasn't ripened into friendship."

He laughed and replied: "Well, the bloom may be as putty as the fruit."

"Very good. I didn't expect it--of you."

"Didn't expect me at all, did you?"

"If I had I should not have remained here."

He cleared his throat. "I know all about bees, but I didn't know befo'
that a butterfly could sting. But I'd ruther be stung than to have no
attention paid to me at all." She arose to go away, but he intercepted
her. "Beggin' yo' pardon, ma'm, for what I've said an' what I am about
to say, will you let me talk business to you for about a minit?"

"I