"Shy! You?" Again the delicious trill of her mirth rang in his
ears. "I should imagine that to be the least of your troubles."

"No! Truly." There was real and anxious earnestness in his
assurance. "It's because I don't see you. If I were face to face
with you, I'd stammer and get red and make a regular imbecile of
myself. Another reason why I stick down here and decline to yield
to temptation."

"O wise young man! ARE you young? Ouch!"

"Reasonably. Was that the last hair?"

"Positively! I'm scalped. You're a red Indian."

"Tie it on. Now, fasten a hairpin on the end and let it down. All
right. I've got it. Wait!" The fragile line of communication
twitched for a moment. "Haul, now. Gently!"

Up came the thread, and, as its burden rose over the face of the
rock, the girl gave a little cry of delight:--

"How exquisite! Orchids, aren't they?"

"Yes, the golden-brown bee orchid. Just your coloring."

"So it is. How do you know?" she asked, startled.

"From the hair. And your eyes have gold flashes in the brown when