A Son of the Hills

by Harriet T. Comstock

"Yes!"

"Isn't his duty to her?"

"Yes, yes, lil' Cyn."

"Then what is left? Just—you and me, I reckon, Sandy."

Sandy gripped his clasped hands close as if by so doing he could better control the rising passion of his love for the girl beside him. Her ignoring of stern fact turned his reason. She was right—but she was wrong! He must protect her and never fail her; he must not be less than Lans.

Then her words came to him in the chaos of his emotions; a new thought had claimed her. She had finished, at last, with the story of her exile; she was back among her hills.

"And the factory, Sandy, it is coming on right fast, I reckon?"

"It is nearly done."

"And—the Home-school?"

"That, too, is nearly ready."