Just at that instant a loud halloo was heard—"Pepeeta, Pepeeta, Pepeeta!"
"It is Steven—the dear boy! He has missed me. You have a dangerous rival, David."
She said this with a merry laugh and cried out, "Steven, Steven, Steven!"
"Where are you?" he called.
"I am here by the bridge!" she cried, in her silvery treble.
"She is here by the bridge!" The deep bass voice of her lover went rolling through the woods.
There was silence for a moment, and then they heard a joyous shout, "Uncle David! Uncle David! Oh! Mother, Father, it is Uncle David."
There was a crashing in the bushes, and the great half-grown boy bounded through them and flung himself into the arms extended to him, with all the trust, all the love, all the devotion of the happy days of old.