an odd place to part, would n't it--Union?"

Stephen saw his opportunity, and seized it.

"There's a reason, Rose, why two logs go downstream better than one, and get
into less trouble. They make a wider path, create more force and a better
current. It's the same way with men and women. Oh, Rose, there is n't a man in
the world that's loved you as long, or knows how to love you any better than I
do. You're just like a white birch sapling, and I'm a great, clumsy fir tree;
but if you 'll only trust yourself to me, Rose, I'll take you safely down-
river."

Stephen's big hand closed on Rose's little one; she returned its pressure
softly and gave him the kiss that with her, as with him, meant a promise for
all the years to come. The truth and passion in the man had broken the girl's
bonds for the moment. Her vision was clearer, and, realizing the treasures of
love and fidelity that were being offered her, she accepted them, half
unconscious that she was not returning them in kind. How is the belle of two
villages to learn that she should "thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's
love"?

And Stephen? He went home in the dusk, not knowing whether his feet were
touching the solid earth or whether he was treading upon rainbows.

Rose's pink calico seemed to brush him as he walked in the path that was wide
enough only for one. His solitude was peopled again when he fed the cattle,
for Rose's face smiled at him from the haymow; and when he strained the milk,
Rose held the pans.

His nightly tasks over, he went out and took his favorite seat under the apple