Then, having marked and turned to the page originally left open, Cynthia drew herself up and looked about the dear room as if taking a last look before going on a long journey.
And so Sandy came upon her. He had arrived at The Forge earlier in the day and had walked up The Way because his heart was full of the joy of life and he wanted to be alone and think his thoughts. He had been so lonely without his father, Lost Mountain, his people and—Cynthia! Not even the love and gratitude he held for Levi Markham and Matilda could hold him long from his own, without regret. And they were coming to him soon—the Markhams—they were coming for the holidays and he must make ready!
Noiselessly he entered his study and stood for a moment revelling in the sight of the girl of his thoughts, materializing before his amazed eyes. He could hardly believe his senses; the day, the place, were bewitched, and he had been so hungry for—just this! Unconsciously he stretched out his arms and his strong, dark face was flushed; his serious eyes glad and kind.
"Little Cyn!"
She turned, and her colour faded. Pale, imploring, she almost ran to him.
"Sandy!"
Now that she had understood and triumphed she could afford to be kind, too, and strong and brave. Something in the frank, unflinching eyes warned Sandy to content himself with the outstretched hands, although the soul of him yearned to hold the girl to him.
"You are glad to see me back, lil' Cyn?"
The old intonation thrilled the listener, but her eyes held true.
"Oh! so glad. 'Tis a mighty empty room you leave, Sandy Morley, when you go away."