position. Rose thought, as she watched them, who but Stephen
would have cared what became of the clump of delicate harebells.
How gentle such a man would be to a woman! How tender his touch
would be if she were ill or in trouble!

Several single logs followed,--crooked ones, stolid ones,
adventurous ones, feeble swimmers, deep divers. Some of them
tried to start a small jam on their own account; others stranded
themselves for good and all, as Rose and Stephen sat there side
by side, with little Dan Cupid for an invisible third on the
bench.

"There never was anything so like people," Rose repeated, leaning
forward excitedly. "And, upon my word, the minister and doctor
couples are still together. I wonder if they'll get as far as
the falls at Union? That would be an odd place to part, wouldn't
it--Union?" Stephen saw his opportunity, and seized it.

"There's a reason, Rose, why two logs go down stream better than
one, and get into less trouble. They make a wider path, create
more force and a better current. It's the same way with men and
women. Oh, Rose, there isn't a man in the world that's loved
you as long, or knows how to love you any better than I do.
You're just like a white birch sapling, and I'm a great, clumsy
fir tree; but if you'll only trust yourself to me, Rose, I'll
take you safely down river."

Stephen's big hand closed on Rose's little one she returned its
pressure softly and gave him the kiss that with her, as with him,
meant a promise for all the years to come. The truth and passion