"We-all just waited like we were holding our breaths till he came marching up The Way. I can laugh now, Mr. Lans, but the morning I saw him first I was standing right there"--she pointed to the tree by the road where she had listened to Sandy's bird call--"and he came along, and when I knew that that big man was--my Sandy that went all raggedy down The Way years before--I expect I hated him! It seemed like he had stolen the nice boy, eaten him up and swallowed him! But no one hates Sandy. We-all want to do something big and fine. Why, every time I look at him, Mr. Lans, I feel like I must show him how glad I am he--well, he didn't swallow the old Sandy whole!" Treadwell laughed delightedly. "He's mighty good to get near to when you feel--troubled," Cynthia added; "and, too, you feel like you wanted to keep him from hurting himself!" "How well you put it!" Treadwell's face grew serious. He recalled his hour of confession in Sandy's study and felt an honest glow of appreciation. "When I was a right little girl," Cynthia went on, "I lived up at Stoneledge with Aunt Ann; she was my real aunt. I had a mighty queer life for a little girl and I reckon I would have fared mighty bad if I hadn't had a secret life!" "You bad child!" Treadwell cried, shaking his finger at her; "a double life, eh?" "Yes." The sweet smile gave Lans a bad moment. "Yes. In that-er-life I had all the things I wanted; all the folks I liked, and it just kept me--going! Sometimes I wish, oh! how I wish, that Sandy had a nice little other life, free of work and worry and loneliness, where he could--let go! Sandy does hold on so!" "I wish I could have been in your 'other life'," Lans whispered. "Oh! real folks never got there!" "Well, if it will comfort you any," Treadwell broke in with an uncomfortable sense of being an off-mountaineer, "Sandy has--another life." "Really?" Cynthia flushed and curiosity swayed her. She had never had so good an opportunity to know the man Sandy; she might never have again. "Really? and folks, right magic folks to--to play with?" Treadwell thought of the Markhams and grinned; then he thought of Sandy's secret relations with the girl his aunt had told him of and he grew imaginative. "Yes. Now there is a man in Sandy's other world, a grim, rather stern man, but he has a magic wand that he lets Sandy wave now and then--it's great fun!" "Oh! you mean the Company?" "Exactly. That's his pet name. And there is a nice old fairy godmother who brews wonderful mixtures for Sandy and darns his socks and makes believe, when no one is listening, that she is his mother." "I should love her, the honey!" Treadwell stopped and gave a big, hearty laugh. Matilda Markham as a "honey" was about the most comical thing he had ever dreamed of. "And is there"--the drawling sweetness of Cynthia's voice was moving Treadwell dangerously--"is there something young and pretty and mighty bright, too?" "Yes." Treadwell's laugh was gone.