. "Why, how do you feel,
Minty?"

"Smart," returned the child, still with her gaze on the uncertain point
in space.

Thinkright's eyes had a humorous twinkle. "I want Minty to help me a
little while this morning," he said. "She'll see you later."

Sylvia turned to him, demurring. "She has been looking forward to it so
much," she said.

"Yes, I know. She won't have to wait long," he replied kindly, putting
his arm around the child's shoulders.

Mrs. Lem, her hair strained back in its least decorative twist, fixed
her offspring with black eyes that snapped.

"You're a-goin' to have a good time with Thinkright, ain't you, Minty?"
she asked, and the child's breath caught through her little nose as she
replied promptly:--

"Yes, I be."

Sylvia looked from one to the other uncertainly, but Thinkright was
patting the little shoulder he held, and he nodded at her reassuringly.

"Run along, Sylvia. You'll find everything in good shape."

"I never saw such a man," thought the girl as she went down the hill.
"How did he know that it would mean so much to me to go out alone just
this first morning? Oh, Thinkright, Thinkright," she sighed. "How great
it is to have come where you are; to have one's skylight always open,
and the trap door always closed!"

She ran lightly in among the evergreens, and touched their bright buds
here and there.

"That's right, precious things," she said, giving a lingering look up
and down the familiar woodland path by the water side.

Then she came through the trees out upon the little dock beside her
boathouse, and stood there, looking about with fond eyes at the broad
sweep of the Basin waters. The snowy stems of the birches seemed alive
as they swayed forward, waving their lustrous banners across the tide.
She nodded in all directions, and kissed her hands to the encircling
woods. "I'm exactly as glad to see _you_," she said; "and you shall sit
to me for your pictures, all of you. Just as soon as"--

She paused, her lips apart, her eyes wide, for all at once she caught
sight of the Tide Mill. Every one of its shutters had turned back. The
sunlight was flooding in. She grew pale, sank down upon a rock near by,
and gazed. While she was thus absorbed John Dunham came out of the
woods and advanced to her. His step creaked the boards of the little
dock, and she looked up. Springing to her feet, the color rushed back
to her face.

"John, you here? The mill shutters have opened." She look