During their afternoon ramble they went along the country lane where May Churchill had first met John Temple in the summer time, when she was gathering wild roses to make a wreath to place on poor young Phil Temple's grave. It was autumn now, and the cobwebs on the grass and the chill in the breeze told of the shortening days. The wild roses were gone, and the meadow-sweet scented the air no longer, but there was a serene and sober beauty in the changing leaves, in the creeping brambles growing amid the hedge-rows. And quite suddenly the three young people encountered John Temple in this very lane. John had been thinking, also, of that first meeting when he had sat on the stile, and thought, smilingly, that this rural scene only wanted "a pretty milkmaid" to complete the picture. He remembered May as he had seen her thus, so fresh, so fair, in her white frock and her dainty basket of roses. And now with glad surprise he once more encountered her. They smiled and clasped each other's hands, but said very few words, and then John looked at the two boys. "So these two young gentlemen are your brothers, I suppose?" he asked. "Yes," answered May, while Willie and Hal grinned responsively. "I am so glad to have met you," continued John, looking extremely happy to have done so, "as I was just going to post--" and then he paused and looked again at the boys. Upon this Hal, who was the youngest, though the sharpest of the two, administered a sharp kick at his brother's ankle. "I say, Will," he said, "I saw some awful jolly blackberries at the other side of the hedge; let's go in for some?" Will took the hint, and the two boys ran together to the stile, so as to get to the other side of the hedge, and John Temple and May were alone. "I was on my way to post a letter to you, May," John said; "now I will give it to you--here it is." He drew out his letter, and put it into May's hand as he spoke, but he still held her hand fast. "It is to ask you to meet me, May," he said. "To meet me, and tell me what your answer to my last letter is to be." May's face flushed, and her breath came sharp; she remembered John's last letter only too well. "We can not talk of it to-day," continued John; "we must be alone. In my letter to you to-day I asked you to fix some time and name place, on Tuesday, as I thought you would only get my letter to-morrow morning. But now as you, have got it to-day, can we meet to-morrow?" "Yes," half-whispered May; John was still holding her hand, still looking in her face, and May's heart was beating very fast. "I have heard something about you to-day, May," presently said John; "something that made me very angry--only I did not believe it." "And what have you heard?" asked May, raising her beautiful eyes to his. "That you are flirting--yes, that was the horrid word--flirting with that brute, young Henderson." May's fair face flushed angrily.