“She’s nane too ready to believe it. She thinks it will all blow over and that Archie will be comin’ back to ye, an’ she’ll say no word to ye aboot it. But I had it from Jimmy who had it from a man jist from Canonsburg. They say Archie an’ the widdy will no jine in the bonds o’ matrimony till he’s ready for his blacks, but that there’s no doubt she’s the tight holt o’ him. Weel, let him go. Ye’ll not fret, lass?” Polly suddenly became anxious at sight of Agnes’s sober face. “I’ll not be frettin’ at loss of Archie, but I hope he’ll get a good wife.” “Ay, there’s naught agin her as I can l’arn. She’s a bit older, but has winnin’ ways, I’m told, an’ is a buxom, black-eyed body. Maybe when he’s out o’ reach o’ her spell, he’ll be turnin’ to ye again as Jeanie is hopin’ he’ll do.” Agnes gave her head a toss. “I’d not have him, Polly; he’d never have won me unless by his constancy and perseverance. Don’t fash yourself about me; I’ll have no heartbreak over Archie M’Clean.” “I would ha’ told annybody that long ago,” said Polly, knowingly. “Ye’ll bide an’ have a sup wid us?” “Yes, but I must get home before dark. Sandy will meet me the other side at sundown.” “An’ yer father’s improvin’?” “Yes, and is enjoying the farm and the children and it’s all coming right.” After more exchanging of news, none of which was of half the interest to the two as that which related to Archie, Agnes helped Polly with the supper, then Jimmy came in and chaffed the girl about letting her chances slip and letting a widow cut her out, making his clumsy jokes and laughing loudly at them himself till Agnes arose to go. She acknowledged to herself as she climbed the hill that she felt a little sore over Archie’s disaffection; if he had proved inconstant, where could she look for stability? But there was too much here to remind her of happier days, and she repeated softly: “Thy heart’s desire; He will give thee thy heart’s desire.” At the top of the hill she stood still and looked back, then she turned toward the river bank. As she came out of the shadows of the trees and glanced down at the sands where her boat lay, she saw that some one else had moored a boat alongside her own. “It must be Carter,” she said; “he has come over instead of Sandy, for that looks like his boat; I’ll just wait here for him.” She leaned against a tree, waiting till he should come up, and in a moment she heard the springing step of some one climbing the steep path, and then a glad voice said, “Agnes!” Her heart stood still. She held out two trembling hands which were closely clasped in Parker’s warm grasp. “Agnes,” he said. “Look at me, little girl, I want to see those honest blue eyes. Are you glad to see me?” “Very glad. When did you come?” “This morning; and as soon as I could I went to call on my neighbors, but I found one missing. They told me where I should find you. And you are not married? I heard you were going to be.” “Carter told you that.” “Yes. Is it true?”