"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely.
"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till ye come yourself, if I lose my position for it."
Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up with mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your position," she said.
"Then you'll come?"
"Perhaps."
Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the sun. He climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had
to use a maple branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention less material possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat with Ruth.
"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going up-town? I'll give you a lift."
Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The presence of other people in the world seemed an intrusion.
"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor, wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief.