Slowly, cautiously, Cynthia with childish curiosity approached this new being who had arisen on her horizon. Sandy, wise in the lore of the hills, lured her as cautiously. He had subdued his own emotions. He was a man; his life had developed him; she was still a child with the radiant woman of her blindly, gropingly, looking forth from the dear, blue-gray eyes. He could wait. She would be his dream of the hills and some day she would come true and he would tell her how he had always loved her; how her pale, sweet face, under the dogwood flowers, had kept him strong and pure and unspoiled through all the yearning years. He could wait until Cynthia, the woman, awoke and--looked at him! In the meantime he worked and grew marvellously happy in his earnest, quiet way. He made a seat for her in his study window--though she never knew how carefully he had arranged it, or how desperately he had struggled to get the right colour for the cushions. "Red," Levi had suggested when approached as to window-seat coverings. "Green, a good dark tone, is a wearing shade," Matilda had informed him, but Sandy chose blue--"the shade that looks as if it sank deeper and deeper," he explained to an artistic designer, and the man had not laughed! Sandy bought and scattered books about in his study where Cynthia might run across them at will, and sometimes during his rare moments of leisure and enjoyment she would nestle on _her_ window seat in his study while he, his back to her, painted at his easel near the north window. At such times Cynthia liked the new Sandy almost as well as the old and was gloriously content and happy. Poetry entered her life then for the first time--poetry through books, through Sandy's modest attempts at art, and through Sandy himself. "Let us go out windowing," he coaxed her one day when they had had a golden hour together. "Windowing, Sandy? What is windowing?" "Why, we'll go around to the cabins and coax or bully the people to let us make windows in their homes--big, fine windows with glass that slides easy, up and down or sideways as one may prefer. I want it done before winter sets in." "They-all will think us all-around cracked!" "Let's try! Windows for sale! we'll cry. It will be mighty jolly." So they had set forth with the result that by August Tod Greeley remarked to Marcia Lowe that he was "dog-dickered if the cabins didn't look like showcases surrounded by clapboards!" When Cynthia reached the Morley cabin that rare September day she paused to look upon the splendour, and was thrilled anew at the changes and improvements. To the southwest end of the cabin three new rooms had been added. Two bed-chambers and a cosy sitting-room. "For that Company up North when it comes down!" Sandy explained. "It must be a mighty upperty Company!" Cynthia replied, looking in awe at the furniture which had been sent from some magic workshop.