et
in the street, and then again I think them fools."

Then she arose and seated herself at the piano. For a full ten minutes
she lightly touched the keys, now a few chords of dreamy waltz music,
then a low, plaintive love song, and finally a bit of Sousa, while Winn
quietly studied her.

Suddenly she turned.

"Winn," she said, looking him full in the face, "I am going to be very
rude. Tell me what made you go to Rockhaven?"

His eyes fell. "To see Jess Hutton," he answered, "and the quarry. I
bought it at the auction a month ago."

It was fairly well said, but not over well.

"Thanks," she replied, "and forgive my query. There is no need of
repeating it."

And it was weeks after before it dawned on him what she wished to find
out.

CHAPTER XLV

THE OLD HOME

There was nothing that could depress Winn just now any more than to
visit his boyhood home. It had been twelve years since he left the
hillside farm, and to return to it, even for a few days and on the
errand that called him, was melancholy in the extreme. Then his trip to
Rockhaven had not helped his feelings. He had gone there expecting to
find Mona, and believing that a few words of explanation would set
matters right. He had even planned what to say and how to say it, and in
the fulness of his faith in himself and her, believed that she would
easily overlook what he now knew was a cruel neglect on his part. Just
why he had let his own discouragement rule him so long and in such a
way, he could not now understand. And the more he thought of it and saw
his own conduct as it was, the worse it seemed. Perhaps she had never
received the letter! Perhaps also she had written, and it had failed to
reach him. And when he recalled the parting, and that all her happiness
and life, almost, seemed to rest on his promise to return, he almost
cursed his own stupidity.

Verily, a pearl of great price had been cast at his feet, and he had
been too witless to pick it up.

And now she was here in the city, and had been for months. And other men
might be looking into her winsome eyes, and whispering of love!

And with these self-reproaches and jealous surmises for company, Winn
sped onward toward his boyhood home.

It was dark ere a slow-moving stage landed him at the village tavern and
a cheerless supper.

And the next day's visit to the spot!

The only redeeming feature seemed to be that it was warm and the sun
shone--one of those first spring days