"No, guess again."

"Chocolates?"

"Who'd think you were so stupid," he said, putting two fingers into his
waistcoat pocket.

"Oh--h!" gasped Ruth, in delight.

"You funny girl, didn't you expect an engagement ring? Let's see if it
fits."

He slipped the gleaming diamond on her finger and it fitted exactly.

"How did you guess?" she asked, after a little.

"It wasn't wholly guess work, dearest." From another pocket, he drew a
glove, of grey suede, that belonged to Ruth's left hand.

"Where did you get that?"

"By the log across the path, that first day, when you were so cross to
me."

"I wasn't cross!"

"Yes you were--you were a little fiend."

"Will you forgive me?" she pleaded, lifting her face to his.

"Rather!" He forgave her half a dozen times before she got away from
him. "Now let's talk sense," she said.

"We can't--I never expect to talk sense again."

"Pretty compliment, isn't it?" she asked. "It's like your telling me I
was brilliant and then saying I wasn't at all like myself." "Won't you
forgive me?" he inquired significantly.

"Some other time," she said, flushing, "now what are we going to do?"

"Well," he began, "I saw the oculist, and he says that my eyes are
almost well again, but that I mustn't use them for two weeks longer.
Then, I can read or write for two hours every day, increasing gradually
as long as they don't hurt. By the first of October, he thinks I'll be
ready for work again. Carlton wants me to report on the morning of the
fifth, and he offers me a better salary than I had on The Herald."

"That's good!"

"We'll have to have a flat in the city, or a little house in the
country, near enough for me to get to the office."

"For us to get to the office," supplemented Ruth.

"What do you think you're going to do, Miss Thorne?"

"Why--I'm going to keep right on with the paper," she answered in
surprise.

"No you're not, darling," he said, putting his arm around her. "Do you
suppose I'm going to have Carlton or any other man giving my wife an
assignment? You can't any way, because I've resigned your position for
you, and your place is already filled. Carlton sent his congratulations
and said his loss was my gain, or something like that. He takes all the
credit to himself."

"Why--why--you wretch!"

"I'm not a wretch--you said yourself I was nice. Look here, Ruth," he
went on, in a different tone, "what do you think I am? Do you think for
a minute that I'd marry