"Yes."

He spoke very gently, and put out his hand to her.

She laid her own in his strong grasp, and then instantly felt as if
she had done something wrong. But he would not let it go again.
Drawing her a little toward him, he turned so that they could walk
together back to the mills.

"Did John send you this way? Have you seen him?" she asked,
falteringly.

"No," said Vibbard. "From where I happened to be, I thought I could
get here sooner by walking over through Bartlett. Besides, it was
pleasanter to come my own way instead of by railroad."

"But how did you know me?"

"I have never forgotten how you looked. And besides, that lilac."

With a troubled impulse, Ida drew her hand away from his, and snatched
the blossoms out of her hair, meaning to throw them away. Then she
hesitated, seeing her rudeness. Vibbard, who had not understood the
movement, said with a tone of delight:

"Won't you give them to me? Do you remember how you wore them in your
hair one day, years ago?"

"I have reasons for not forgetting it," she answered with a laugh,
feeling more at her ease. "Well, I have spoiled this bunch now, but of
course you may have them."

He took the flowers, and they walked on, talking more like old
friends. At the moment when this happened, Silverthorn, who, while
waiting for another train to arrive, had come back to the house in
search of Ida, passed on into a little orchard on a slope, just
beyond, which overlooked a bend in the road: from there he saw Ida
give Vibbard the lilac spray. At first he scarcely knew his old
friend, and the sight struck him with a jealous pang he had never felt
before. Then suddenly he saw that it was Vibbard, and would have
rushed down the slope to welcome him. But like a detaining hand upon
him, the remembrance of his foolish quarrel with Ida held him back. He
slunk away secretly through the orchard, into the woods, and hurried
to meet Vibbard at a point below the house, where Ida would have left
him.

He was not disappointed. He gained the spot in time, and appeared to
be walking up from the mill, when he encountered his old comrade going
sturdily toward it. Nevertheless, he felt uncomfortable at the
deception he was using. They greeted each other warmly, yet each felt
a constraint that surprised him.

Vibbard explained how he had come.

"And I have seen Ida," he exclaimed impetuously, with a glow of
pleasure. Then he stopped in embarrassment. "Are you going back tha