"O Harry!" she cried with a joyful ring in her voice; "I never was so glad to see anybody in my life!"
He did not say one word, but as he stood there, bareheaded, there was a look in his face that gave her pause. Had she been too forward? Was he so changed? She drew her hands away, and taking up the bridle, looked uncertainly from side to side.
"Aren't we friends any more, Harry? Aren't you glad to see me?" she asked. Her voice was unsteady like her look. He had never seen her like this.
"Glad to see you, Dorothy?" he cried. "You seem like an angel straight from Heaven, only a hundred thousand million times better!"
A sudden explosion boomed out, putting a period to this emphatic declaration. Wakefield seized the rein of the startled horse, that sprang shivering to one side; but Dorothy only said, quite composedly: "I suppose you were blasting up there. Will there be another?"
"No; but how did you know it was I?"
"Why, I knew all about it, of course. Fanny told me, and Mrs. Dick Dayton wrote home, and,—well, I knew about it a great deal better than anybody else!"
"And you knew I was up here?"
"Of course I did! Why, else, should I have come up at daybreak?"
"But, Dorothy," Wakefield persisted, determined to make a clean breast of it at the outset. "Did you know I had made a fizzle of everything out here?"