It was evident Mona had not confided the incident to her mother, and
until she had Winn thought it his place to keep silent. He did not know
that the girl's secrecy was solely due to fear of a scolding, and that
between her mother and herself existed that foolish, but often
dangerous barrier. It was several days after before Winn obtained a
suitable chance to speak with Mona alone, and then he met her just
coming from the store of Jess Hutton.

"When am I to hear you play again?" he asked pleasantly, "I wanted to
ask you the evening I called, but in view of what you said about your
mother's dislike of it, decided not to."

"I am glad you did," she replied, coloring a little.

"I am going over to that gorge this afternoon," continued Winn boldly,
"and I want you to promise to come and bring your violin. Will you?"

"I won't promise," she replied timidly, and all unconscious that his
proposal was not in strict propriety, "I may come, but if I do I shall
not dare play before you."

"Oh, I am harmless," he replied lightly, "and if you knew how anxious I
am to hear you, you would favor me, I am sure."

And that afternoon Winn betook himself once more to what was now likely
to be a trysting place, only instead of going directly, the way Mona
would naturally, over Norse Hill, he walked a mile extra around through
Worthaven. And this to protect the good name of a girl with a face like
a marguerite and eyes like deep waters.

She was not there when he arrived, and in truth Mona was having a hard
struggle to decide whether to go or not, for this man, with earnest
brown eyes, blond mustache, stylish garb, ways and manners so utterly
unlike any that had come under her ken, was one to awe her.

Then, would it be right, and what would her mother and Uncle Jess, and
all the good people of Rockhaven, say if it were known she met him thus?
For Mona, wise as only Rockhaven was, and pure as the flowers her face
resembled, was yet conscious what evil tongues might say, and dreaded
lest they be set wagging.

But a lurking impulse, first implanted in Mother Eve's heart, and
budding in Mona's since the hour she saw Winn's kindly eyes looking down
into her own, won the day, and taking her dearly-loved, old, brown
fiddle and bow safe in their green bag, she walked rapidly to the edge
of the gorge, with throbbing heart and flushed face.

Winn was there waiting, as full well she knew he would be, lazily
puffing a cigar while he lean