Ronald Bruce! Yes, it was he. There he stood, taller, browner, and stouter, and, withal, handsomer than he had ever been before. They recognized each other in one mutual, instantaneous, astonished gaze. “Miss Palmer! You here! What a surprise! I did not know it was you until you turned your face. I am _very_ glad to see you!” exclaimed the young man heartily, offering his hand. But he looked full of curiosity and interest, as if he would have liked to ask her how on earth she ever came there, if the question had been admissible. Em.’s expressive face flushed and paled as she received his hand. “I hope I did not frighten you,” continued the young lieutenant, seeing that she did not speak. “Oh, no, not much—that is, not at all,” faltered the girl in blushing confusion. “You did not in the least expect to meet me here, however,” said Ronald Bruce, fixing his honest, dark eyes smilingly upon her roseate face. “Oh, no; but I am very much pleased to meet you here,” said Em., beginning to recover her self-possession and speaking with all the more formal politeness because of her conscious embarrassment. “Are you really? Then this is a mutual pleasure as well as a mutual surprise. Being in the neighborhood, and hearing of this beautiful place, I came this morning to see it. I met the housekeeper, who told me that the doors were open, as there was another person inside viewing the rooms. I came in and found you.” “I have been here once before. I like to come.” “It is a very attractive place—but do not stand!” suddenly exclaimed the young man as he went off and wheeled up a short sofa before the picture. “Now sit down, Miss Palmer, and I will explain how I happen to be in this neighborhood.” She seated herself with a bow of thanks, and he, leaning over the arm of the sofa, continued: “I am on a three months’ leave, and I have come to spend it with my uncle, Commodore Bruce, who has been placed on the retired list, and is living at a fine old place called The Breezes, on the west bank of the river, about half way between this and a queer old manor called the Wilderness. Perhaps you may know both, if you have been here long.” “Yes, I have seen The Breezes from the river. It is a long, gray stone house on a plateau half way up the mountain side, half hidden, also, by trees, and with a fountain gushing from the rocks at the right and tumbling all the way down from ledge to ledge until it falls into the river.” “That is the place. The house, as you say, stands upon a natural plateau about half way up the mountain. The commodore calls the plateau a shelf, and says that it is all right that a worn-out old veteran like himself should be laid upon the shelf. But I am sorry that he is retired from the navy. He needed that active life more than any man I ever knew.” “Why?” inquired Em.