self, and straightway began to read. The
afternoon burned itself away. Ethel played and sang and danced about
her, quite oblivious of the heat, till, tired out, she threw herself
into Ruth's arms.

"Sing by-low now," she demanded sleepily; "pay it's night, and you and
me's in a yockin'-chair goin' to by-low land."

Ruth realized that the child was weary, and drawing her little head to
her bosom, threw off the huge sunbonnet and ruffled up the damp, golden
locks.

"What shall I sing, darling?" she mused: she was unused to singing
babies to sleep. Suddenly a little kindergarten melody she had heard
came to her, and she sang softly in her rich, tender contralto the
swinging cradle-song:--

"In a cradle, on the treetop,
Sleeps a tiny bird;
Sweeter sound than mother's chirping
Never yet was heard.
See, the green leaves spread like curtains
Round the tiny bed,
While the mother's wings, outstretching,
Shield--the--tiny--head?"

As her voice died slowly into silence, she found Ethel looking over her
shoulder and nodding her head.

"No; I won't tell," she said loudly.

"Tell what?" asked Ruth, amused.

"Hush! He put his finger on his mouf--sh!"

"Who?" asked Ruth, turning her head hurriedly. Not being able to see
through the tree, she started to her feet, still holding the child.
Between two trees stood the stalwart figure of Dr. Kemp,--Dr. Kemp in
loose, light gray tweeds and white flannel shirt; on the back of his
head was a small, soft felt hat, which he lifted as she turned,--a wave
of color springing to his cheek with the action. As for Ruth,--a woman's
face dare not speak sometimes.

"Did I startle you?" he asked, coming slowly forward, hat in hand, the
golden shafts of the sun falling upon his head and figure.

"Yes," she answered, trying to speak calmly, and failing, dropped into
silence.

She made no movement toward him, but let the child glide softly down
till she stood at her side.

"I interrupted you," he continued; "will you shake hands with me,
nevertheless?"

She put her hand in his proffered one, which lingered in the touch; and
then, without looking at her, he stooped and spoke to the child. In that
moment she had time to compose herself.

"Do you often come up this way?" she questioned.

He turned from the child, straightened hims