"And you!" The gentle warmth of a woodland summer played in the girl's
blue eyes. "A tall, big woodcutter you've grown."

They were silent for a while.

The trees listened breathlessly.

A warm flood rose in the young man's breast--like a summer wave
washing the sands of an untrodden shore.

The girl's kerchief had fallen from her head. He picked it up and gave
it to her. Through the thin stuff their fingers touched; the youth
felt a thrill in every limb. Suddenly he grasped her hands, his eyes
gazing ardently into hers.

"Annikki!" he whispered. He could find no words for the tumult in his
veins. "Annikki!" he gasped again, entreatingly.

A faint flush had risen to her cheeks, but her glance met his calmly
and frankly. She pressed his hand in answer.

"More than anyone else in all the world?" he asked passionately.

She pressed his hand again, more warmly still.

He was filled with joy, yet somehow uneasy and confused. He wanted to
say something--warm, fervent words. Or do something--throw himself at
her feet and clasp her knees--anything. But he dared not.

Then his eyes fell on one of the treetops close by He slipped one hand