"I think," said Pringle reflectively, "that I have forgotten that."

"Do you know, John Wesley, I have never been back to any place we have
left once? And of all the people I have ever known, you are the only
one I have ever lost track of and found again. And you're always just
the same old John Wesley; always gay and cheerful; nearly always in
trouble; always strong and resourceful--"

"How true!" said Pringle. "Yes, yes; go on!"

"Well, you are! And you're so--so reliable; like Faithful John in the
fairy story. You're different from anyone else I know. You're a good
boy; when you are grown up you shall have a yoke of oxen, over and
above your wages."

"This is very gratifying indeed," observed Pringle. "But--a sweetly
solemn thought comes to me. You were going to tell me about another
boy--the onliest little boy?"

"He's not a boy," said Stella, flushing hotly. "He's a man--a man's
man. You'll like him, John Wesley--he's just your kind. I'm not going
to tell you. You'll see him at our house, with the others. And he'll
be the very one you'd pick out for me yourself. Of course you'll want
to tease me by pretending to guess someone else; but you'll know which
one he is, without me telling you. He stands out apart from all other
men in every way. Come on, John Wesley--it's time to go down to the
station."

Pringle caught step with her.