were brown wells of starlight; she scarcely seemed to breathe, so still she
sat, her slender hands loosely clasped in her lap.

Dr. Kemp sat opposite her--and Mrs. Levice slept.

Slowly and more slowly sped the tiny boat; long gentle strokes touched the
water; and presently the oars lay idle in their locks, --they were
unconsciously drifting. The water dipped and lapped about the sides; the
tender woman's voice across the water stole to them, singing of love; their
eyes met--and Mrs. Levice slept.

Ever, in the after time, when Ruth heard that song, she was again rocking
in the frail row-boat upon the lovely river, and a man's deep, grave eyes
held hers as if they would never let them go, till under his worshipping
eyes her own filled with slow ecstatic tears.

"Doctor," called a startled voice, "row out; I am right under the trees."

They both started. Mrs. Levice was, without doubt, awake. They had
drifted into a cove, and she was cowering from the over-hanging boughs.

"I do not care to be Absalomed; where were your eyes, Ruth?" she
complained, as Kemp pushed out with a happy, apologetic laugh. "Did not
you see where we were going?"

"No," she answered a little breathlessly; "I believe I am growing
far-sighted."

"It must be time to sight home now," said her mother; "I am quite chilly."