“I can’t—can’t help it. I am so—so glad.”
She stood and took his two hands, and said, “I was afraid, I was not sure. Now I know; it is for always!”
“Yes, Rose. Sit down, dear.” And again he fell on the ferns beside her, and they talked in the tongue of the new land they had found, looking before and after, and asking no more of life than the golden-freighted minutes brought.
Meanwhile the sun fell behind the hill, and the glow of blue and orange light on the waters faded to dusky brown. Tree and rock grew slowly less distinct as the shadows crossed the stream; but on their world another sun arose, and with touch of hands they stayed, talking of the life of love and duty and common helpfulness which lay broad and beautiful before their eyes.
At last they heard the paddles, and their hands fell apart.
“How late you are, boys!”
“Yes; the trout were rising. I’m awful sorry,” said Ned.
“So are we,” returned Carington. “We have been horribly bored—Miss Rose and I. I will go up in your boat, Miss Lyndsay, if I may. It is late to walk.”
“Certainly.”
She had now a little gold dollar in her shut hand, and was silent enough, till he left her at the Cliff Camp.