Sugar Camp Hollow was the shortest cut from Three-Sisters to the farm on which an uncle of Lizzī lived. It was a long, deep ravine, where grew great towering pines and graceful sugar-maples. These latter gave it the name. Every spring there was a sugar-boiling at the mouth of the hollow. In the fall and winter the deer herded in the laurel thickets near the top of the mountain. A narrow path ran the length of the ravine, and from a spring near the mountain-top a noisy brook rolled to the mountain's foot and tumbled into the river.
Lizzī's aunt was ill, and, on the Sunday following her engagement, Lizzī, with a basket full of good things, went to visit her. The day was very still, and she enjoyed the deep silence of the woods, broken only by the rustling of the dead leaves as she stepped lightly on them. Sometimes she paused to let the quiet rest her.
As she turned a sharp bend in the path she discovered Gill waiting for her, and uttered an exclamation of glad surprise. Putting down the basket, she let him fold her in his arms. Her heart beat quickly and strongly. He felt it throb, and a thrill startled his steady nerves. Lifting her head from his shoulder, he took her face in both hands and drew it slowly closer to his, feasting his eyes on it. She looked a quick protest and then yielded. A flush mantled her cheeks.
He would have repeated the kiss, but she would not let him. Repetition would be profanation in her eyes and he understood her refusal. Ever after in her life she regarded that first kiss as sacred.
Usually his manner was lightsome, but to-day it was subdued.
"Why have you got such a long face, John? Ain't you glad to see me?"
"Of course I am."
He pressed her hand and looked away from her. The sad smile on his face was succeeded by an expression of dejection.
"Sit down on this log and tell me what's the matter."