"Uncle Martin, you haven't changed a bit!" she exclaimed
joyously. "I was wondering if I'd recognise you--imagine!
Somehow, I thought thirteen years would make a lot of difference,
but you don't look a day older."

"You little blarney," he smiled, pleased nevertheless. "Well,
here we are," and he stopped before his fine Cadillac.

"Oh, Uncle Martin," gasped Rose ecstatically. "What a perfectly
gorgeous car! I thought all farmers were supposed to have Fords."

They laughed happily together.

"It's the best in these parts," he admitted complacently.

"It's too wonderful to think that it is really yours. Oh, Uncle
Martin, do you suppose you could ever teach me to drive it?"

"It takes a good deal of strength to shift the gears, but you can
have a try at it anyway, tomorrow."

"Oh-h-h!" she exulted, slipping naturally into their old
comradeship.

Martin took her elbow as he helped her into the car. The firm
young flesh felt good--it was hard to let go. His thumb and under
finger had pressed the muscles slightly and they had moved under
his touch. His hand trembled a bit. The grace with which she
stepped up gave him another thrill. He was struck with her trim
pump, and the several inches of silk stocking that flashed before