elf, and leaning one arm
against the tree, answered,--

"Once or twice every summer I run away from humanity for a few days,
and generally find myself in this part of the country. This is one of my
select spots. I knew you would ferret it out."

"It is very lovely here. But we are going home now; the afternoon is
growing old. Come, Ethel."

A shadow fell upon his dark eyes as she spoke, scarcely looking at him.
Why should she hurry off at his coming?

"I am sorry my presence disturbs you," he said quietly; "But I can
easily go away again."

"Was I so rude?" she asked, looking up with a sudden smile. "I did not
mean it so; but Ethel's mother will want her now."

"Ethel wants to be carried," begged the child.

"All right; Ruth will carry you," and she stooped to raise her; but as
she did so, Kemp's strong hand was laid upon her arm and held her back.

"Ethel will ride home on my shoulder," he said in the gay, winning voice
he knew how so well to use with children. The baby's blue eyes smiled in
response to his as he swing her lightly to his broad shoulder. There
is nothing prettier to a woman than to see the confidence that a little
child reposes in a strong man.

So through the mellow, golden sunlight they strolled slowly homeward.

Chapter XV

Mr. Levice, sauntering down the garden-path, saw the trio approaching.
For a moment he did not recognize the gentleman in his summer attire.
When he did, surprise, then pleasure, then a spirit of inquietude,
took possession of him. He had been unexpectedly startled on Ruth's
birthnight by a vague something in Kemp's eyes. The feeling, however,
had vanished gradually in the knowledge that the doctor always had
a peculiarly intent gaze, and, moreover, no one could have helped
appreciating her loveliness that night. This, of itself, will bring
a softness into a man's manner; and without doubt his fears had been
groundless,--fears that he had not dared to put into words. For old man
as he was, he realized that Dr. Kemp's strong personality was such as
would prove dangerously seductive to any woman whom he cared to honor
with his favor; but with a "Get thee behind me, Satan" desire, he
had put the question from him. He could have taken his oath on Ruth's
heart-wholeness, yet now, as he recognized her companion, his misgivings
returned threefold. The courteous gentleman, however, was at his ease as
they came up.

"This is a surprise, Doctor," he exclaimed cordially, o