At this he brightened very much, but she, as if repenting she had given
him so much pleasure, added: "I wanted to say good-bye to my father, you
know; and--" she paused.

"And?" he added.

"And to tell him that you have fond relatives in the old land who would
mourn your early taking off; and, therefore, to beg him, for their sakes,
to keep you safe from any outrageous moose that mightn't know how the
world needed you."

"But there you are mistaken," he said; "I haven't anyone who would
really care, worse luck! except the dowager; and she, perhaps, would be
consoled to know that I had died in battle,--even with a moose,--and was
clear of the possibility of hanging another lost reputation on the family
tree, to say nothing of suspension from any other kind of tree. But, if
it should be the other way; if I should see your father in the path of an
outrageous moose--what then?"

"My father is a hunter born," she responded; "he is a great man," she
proudly added.

"Of course, of course," he replied. "Good-bye. I'll take him your
love.--Good-bye!" and he turned away.

"Good-bye," she gaily replied; and yet, one looking closely would have
seen that this stalwart fellow was pleasant to her eyes, and as she
closed the door to his hand waving farewell to her from the pines, she
said, reflecting on his words: