Year: 1878

Your cousin Helen is coming next
week." Robert Braith's mother said,
when he came in from his work and sat
down TO read for few minutes. "rhere
is her letter on the window sill if you
would like to read it,


He took up the letter and read it
through slowly. One passage he read
over twice before he laid it down.


Il never spent pleasanter summer
in my life than the one L spent with
you. And if Robert is the same dear
old fellow that he was then l shall en-
joy this one quite as much, for you
know Rob and / were the best OF
friends. and | have seen no one since
that liked half so WELL"


He sat there in the door with the let
ter in his hands, and he looked away
across the meadow where the grass was
crinkling in the wind like sea of EN-
erald, and thought about that summer
gone by, and the sammer evening. In
that vanished one he had dreamed such
sweet and beautiful dream, and its
memory had never left him. But he
had hidden il in his own heart, and no
one had ever guessed what it was. .No~
she was coming back, and the old
dream must be lived over again, or
crushed down and kept out of sight, if
it so be that his will was powerful
enough to do that. But he doubted his
own strength. There had been times
in the dead of summer when it seemed
as if his heart must speak out and be
heard. But his pride had kept him ST.
lent. Here was he, farmer; and she
was the child of wealthy parents, city
born and bred, and he argued that he
had no right to say anything to her of
love. because their stations in life were
so different and so far apart. If she
had been a farmers daughter, or the
child of poor parents, or he had been a
rich mans son, with culture and edu-
cation equal TO her own, then! But
always the ''if'' i'm the way came up TO
stare him i'm the face, and so he crushed
back the words he had almost said so
many times, and Helen Hunt had never
discovered his secret, he felt sure.


He could not help feeling thrill of
keen pleasure at knowing she was COM
ing back. but at the same time he was
sorry. 1t would only make it harder
tor him after she was gone. He knew
that her voice would hold the old dan
gerously-sweet fascination in it, and
her eyes would only make him feel
more keenly what he longed to claim
for his own, and what was out of his
reach. But-and something Of that
same recklessness which comes to all
of us at times came to him-she was
coming, and he could not help that, and
he would let the future decide its own
affairs. He would drift ard dream even
if the waking up at the end of il was
bitter with loss and lifetime's regret.


The mex: week brought Helen Hunt.
Robert drove down to the depot after
her. She was standing on the plat
form with her face turned another way
when he drove up. But it did not need
the sight of her face to tell him that she
was there. He would have known the |
tall and graceful figure anywhere.


81 am glad to see you back" he said,
coming up beside her. His voice was
not quite steady. He had tried to make
himself cool and collected, but the pre-
sence of the woman he loved unnamed
him little.


Robert she cried, turning quickly |
at the sound of his voice, with glad,
eager flush lighting up into her beauti-
full eyes. How they thrilled him. She
held out her hand, and there was no
mistaking the genuineness of her well
come. 1t spoke in words, and made IL
self felt in her face.


81 hardly expected TO see you back
here" ne said, feeling that she would
expect him to say something, and know
ing nothing else to say. Just then,
words failed to come readily at his COM
mand.


81 have been looking forward to this |
for months," she said. 81 was so hap
py here that l have been longing to
come back ever since l went away.
hope this summer will be as pleasant as
that one was"


''I hope it will for your sake" said /
he, and his face had a grave, panied