The pet crow had wandered in the direction of the canoe. Catching sight of Master, he ran away cawing.
The young man started slowly up the trail. For a moment the girl hid her face behind the children. As he came near she rose and timidly gave him her hand. Quickly she turned away. His hand had been like those of the children—its touch had stirred new and slumbering depths in her.
"If—if you wish to be alone with the children," he said, "I—I will go fishing."
For a little she dared not look in his face. But since her talk with Miss Strong she was determined not to run away again for fear of him. She stood without speaking, her eyes downcast.
"You do want her—don't you, Uncle Robert?" said the youthful ambassador.
"You—you mustn't ask me to tell secrets," said the young man, as he turned away with a little laugh of embarrassment.
"Is your father at home?" he asked.
"He will return Saturday."
"If he were willing, would—would you let me come to see you?"
She hesitated, looking down at the green moss. "I—I think not," said she.