Alas! he had not another stamp; he was obliged to leave the fish, but carried a brilliant idea away with him. Ever since then he had cherished it--and another extra stamp in his pocket. And now, with this strong but gossamer-like snell, this new hook, and this freshly cut hickory rod, he would make the trial! But fate was against him! He had scarcely descended the narrow trail to the pine-fringed margin of the stream before his quick ear detected an unusual rustling through the adjacent underbrush, and then a voice that startled him! It was HERS! In an instant all thought of sport had fled. With a beating heart, half opened lips, and uplifted lashes, Leonidas awaited the coming of his divinity like a timorous virgin at her first tryst. But Mrs. Burroughs was clearly not in an equally responsive mood. With her fair face reddened by the sun, the damp tendrils of her unwound hair clinging to her forehead, and her smart little slippers red with dust, there was also a querulous light in her eyes, and a still more querulous pinch in her nostrils, as she stood panting before him. “You tiresome boy!” she gasped, holding one little hand to her side as she gripped her brambled skirt around her ankles with the other. “Why didn't you wait? Why did you make me run all this distance after you?” Leonidas timidly and poignantly protested. He had waited before the house and on the hill; he thought she didn't want him. “Couldn't you see that THAT MAN kept me in?” she went on peevishly. “Haven't you sense enough to know that he suspects something, and follows me everywhere, dogging my footsteps every time the post comes in, and even going to the post-office himself, to make sure that he sees all my letters? Well,” she added impatiently, “have you anything for me? Why don't you speak?” Crushed and remorseful, Leonidas produced her letter. She almost snatched it from his hand, opened it, read a few lines, and her face changed. A smile strayed from her eyes to her lips, and back again. Leonidas's heart was lifted; she was so forgiving and so beautiful! “Is he a boy, Mrs. Burroughs?” asked Leonidas shyly. “Well--not exactly,” she said, her charming face all radiant again. “He's older than you. What has he written to you?” Leonidas put his letter in her hand for reply. “I wish I could see him, you know,” he said shyly. “That letter's bully--it's just rats! I like him pow'ful.” Mrs. Burroughs had skimmed through the letter, but not interestedly. “You mustn't like him more than you like me,” she said laughingly, caressing him with her voice and eyes, and even her straying hand.