“Come on, now,” said Mr. Stagg with some impatience, and led the way to the door. Prince paced sedately along by Carolyn May’s side. Once out of the shop in the sunlit street, the little girl breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Stagg, peering down at her sharply, asked: “What’s the matter?” “I—I—Your shop is awful dark, Uncle Joe,” she confessed. “I can’t seem to _look up_ in there.” “‘Look up’?” repeated the hardware dealer, puzzled. “Yes, sir. My papa says never to get in any place where you can’t _look up_ and see something brighter and better ahead,” said Carolyn May softly. “He says that’s what makes life worth living.” “Oh! he does, does he?” grunted Mr. Stagg. He noticed the heavy bag in her hand and took it from her. Instantly her released fingers stole into his free hand. Mr. Stagg looked down at the little hand on his palm, somewhat startled and not a little dismayed. To Carolyn May it was the most natural thing in the world to clasp hands with Uncle Joe as they walked, but it actually made the hardware dealer blush! The main street of Sunrise Cove on this warm afternoon was not thronged with shoppers. Not many people noticed the tall, shambling, round-shouldered man in rusty black, with the petite figure of the child and the mongrel dog passing that way, though a few idle shopkeepers looked after the trio in surprise. But when Mr. Stagg and his companions turned into the pleasantly shaded street that led out of town towards The Corners—where was the Stagg homestead—Carolyn May noticed her uncle become suddenly flustered. She saw the blood flood into his face and neck, and she felt his hand loosen as though to release her own. The little girl looked ahead curiously at the woman who was approaching. She was not a young woman—that is, not what the child would call young. Carolyn May thought she was very nice looking—tall and robust. She had beautiful brown hair, and a brown complexion, with a golden-red colour in her cheeks like that of a russet apple. Her brown eyes flashed an inquiring glance upon Carolyn May, but she did not look at Mr. Stagg, nor did Mr. Stagg look at her. “Oh! who _is_ that lady, Uncle Joe?” asked the little girl when they were out of earshot. “Hum!” Her uncle’s throat seemed to need clearing. “That—_that_ is Mandy Parlow—_Miss_ Amanda Parlow,” he corrected himself with dignity. The flush did not soon fade out of his face as they went on in silence. CHAPTER II—AN OLD-FASHIONED ROSE The street was slightly rising. The pleasant-looking houses on either hand had pretty lawns and gardens about them. Carolyn May Cameron thought Sunrise Cove a very lovely place—as was quite natural to a child brought up in the city. Prince approved of the freedom of the street, too. A cat crossed slowly and with dignity from curb to curb ahead of them, and the dog almost forgot his manners. “Here!” exclaimed Mr. Stagg sharply. “Haven’t you a leash for that mongrel? If we’ve got to take him along——”