Christie sank back in her saddle with a little cry, half of pain and
half of frightened surprise. Had the poor boy suddenly gone mad, or was
this vicarious farewell a part of the courtship of Devil's Ford? She
looked at her little hand, which had reddened under the pressure, and
suddenly felt the flush extending to her cheeks and the roots of her
hair. This was intolerable.

"Christie!"

It was her sister emerging from the wood to seek her. In another moment
she was at her side.

"We thought you were following," said Jessie. "Good heavens! how you
look! What has happened?"

"Nothing. I met Mr. Kearney a moment ago on the trail. He is going away,
and--and--" She stopped, furious and flushing.

"And," said Jessie, with a burst of merriment, "he told you at last he
loved you. Oh, Christie!"




CHAPTER VI


The abrupt departure of George Kearney from Devil's Ford excited
but little interest in the community, and was soon forgotten. It was