"Good evening, Jonathan Zane."

This greeting in a woman's clear voice brought Jonathan out from his
reveries. He glanced up to see Helen Sheppard standing in the doorway
of her father's cabin.

"Evenin', miss," he said with a bow, and would have passed on.

"Wait," she cried, and stepped out of the door.

He waited by the gate with a manner which showed that such a summons
was novel to him.

Helen, piqued at his curt greeting, had asked him to wait without any
idea of what she would say. Coming slowly down the path she felt again
a subtle awe of this borderman. Regretting her impulsiveness, she lost
confidence.

Gaining the gate she looked up intending to speak; but was unable to
do so as she saw how cold and grave was his face, and how piercing
were his eyes. She flushed slightly, and then, conscious of an
embarrassment new and strange to her, blushed rosy red, making, as it
seemed to her, a stupid remark about the sunset. When he took her
words literally, and said the sunset was fine, she felt guilty of
deceitfulness. Whatever Helen's faults, and they were many, she was
honest, and because of not having looked at the sunset, but only
wanting him to see her as did other men, the innocent ruse suddenly
appeared mean and trifling.