out of the grand stand.

So they drove back to Coniston through the level evening light, and when
they came to Ephraim Prescott's harness shop the old soldier waved at
them cheerily from under the big flag which he had hung out in honor of
the day. The flag was silk, and incidentally Ephraim's most valued
possession. Then they drew up before the tannery house, and Cynthia
leaped out of the buggy and held out her hand to the painter with a
smile.

"It was very good of you to take me," she said.

Jethro Bass, rugged, uncouth, in rawhide boots and swallowtail and
coonskin cap, came down from the porch to welcome her, and she ran toward
him with an eagerness that started the painter to wondering afresh over
the contrasts of life. What, he asked himself, had Fate in store for
Cynthia Wetherell?




CHAPTER III

"H-have a good time, Cynthy?" said Jethro, looking down into her face.
Love had wrought changes in Jethro; mightier changes than he suspected,
and the girl did not know how zealous were the sentries of that love, how
watchful they were, and how they told him often and again whether her
heart, too, was smiling.

"It was very gay," said Cynthia.