teacher passed up and down the road and fell to looking with pleasure on
the beautiful fields and orchards around her, and especially at the
Ames farm the central and most flourishing of them all. Perhaps it would
not be fair to analyze her thoughts too closely. She was yet young, only
twenty-two--Rupert's own age; yet Miss Wilton's experiences in this
world's school were greater than that of the simple young farmer's.

Had she designs on the Ames farm and its master? She had been in the
place a year only. How could such thoughts arise within such a little
head? How could such serious schemes brood behind such laughing lips and
sparkling eyes? Strange that such should be the case, but truth is
ofttimes strange.

Since the railroad had been extended through the valley, the town of
Willowby had grown wonderfully. Its long, straight streets enclosing the
rectangular squares, had not crept, but had sped swiftly out into the
country on all sides, and especially towards the mountains, until now
the Ames place was within the corporated city limits. Willowby soon
became a shipping point for grain and fruits to the markets which the
mining towns to the north afforded. The Ames orchard consisted of the
finest fruits which commanded a high price. Yes, the property was fast
making its owners rich.

Rupert Ames was a "rising young man," lacking the finished polish of a
higher education, no doubt, but still, he was no "green-horn." Even Miss
Wilton had to acknowledge that, when she became acquainted so that she
could speak freely with him. He was a shrewd business man and knew how
to invest his growing bank account. It was no secret that city lots and
business property were continually being added to his possessions.