"Yes. But, little girl, come, some time, to the cabin in the woods and play for me; will you? I might help you. And you could help me, I am trying to find my place, too." "You?" "Yes, Donelle." Then, quite irrelevantly, as once Tom Gavot had done, he said: "Your eyes are glorious, child, do you know that? The soul of you shines through. Donelle, it is almost as bad to starve a soul as to kill it. Will you bring the fiddle some day?" "Yes, some day." She was very sweet and pretty sitting there with the autumn light on her face. "Donelle!" "Yes." "Just Donelle. The name is like you. You will keep your promise?" "Some day, yes." *CHAPTER XIV* *A CHOICE OF ROADS* Day after day Donelle looked at her fiddle, but turned away. Day after day she sang the hours through, working beside Jo, or playing with Nick. Something was happening to her; something that frightened her, but thrilled her. She kept remembering the touch of Norval’s hand upon hers! In the night, when she thought of it, she trembled. When she saw him she was shy. "I wish Tom Gavot would come back," she said to herself, for Tom had been detained. Then, at last, one day she heard that he was on his way. He would leave the little train, five miles below Point of Pines, and would walk the rest of the way. She knew the path so she went to meet him. It was mid afternoon when she saw him coming, swinging along in his rough corduroys and high boots, his cap on the back of his handsome head, his bag slung over his shoulder. She stepped behind a tree, laughing, and when he was close she suddenly appeared and grasped his arm. "Donelle, I thought——" "Did I frighten you, Tom?" "Well, you know there is always the bit of a coward in me. Why are you here?" "I came to meet you, Tom." "Has anything gone wrong?" His face darkened; poor Tom never expected things had gone right. His life had not been formed on those lines. "No, but I wanted you, Tom. There are so many things to talk about, wonderful things. I’ve gone to your cabin, Tom, and made it ready for you. Every day I’ve lighted a fire the nights are cold. I thought you might come at night." Donelle had lighted a fire of which she knew nothing, and Tom could not tell her! "You’re kind," was all he said as he looked at her. Then: "I never had a home until I got that cabin, Donelle. While I am away, I see the curtains you and Mam’selle made and the bedspread and all the rest. When I’ve been shivering in camp, I saw the fire on my own little hearth, and I was warm!" Donelle smiled up to him. "Tell me about your road," she said.