“I'm afraid you _are_ too late,” said Floyd, with a polite smile. “I was lucky enough to find the first red ear of corn, and the reward was that I might take home any one I asked. I assure you I'll see that Miss Cynthia is well taken care of.” “Oh! I--I see.” The preacher seemed stunned by the disappointment. “I didn't know; I thought--” “Yes, Floyd has won fast enough,” said Pole. “An' he's acted the part of the gentleman all through.” Pole explained what Floyd had done in excusing Miss Cynthia from the principal forfeit he had won. But Hillhouse seemed unable to reply. The young people were moving towards the cottage, and he fell behind Floyd and his partner, walking along with the others and saying nothing. It was a lonely, shaded road which Floyd and his companion traversed to reach her home. “My luck turned just in the nick of time,” he said, exultantly. “I went there, Cynthia, especially to talk with you, and I was mad enough to fight when I saw how Pole had arranged everything. Then, by good-fortune and cheating, I found that red ear; and, well, here we are. You have no idea how pretty you look, with your hair--” “Stop, don't begin that!” Cynthia suddenly commanded, and she turned her eyes upon him steadily. “Stop? Why do you say that?” “Because you talk that way to all the girls, and I don't want to hear it.” Floyd laughed. “I declare you are a strange little creature. You simply won't let me be nice to you.” “Well, I'm sure I don't like you when you speak that way,” the girl said, seriously. “It sounds insincere--it makes me doubt you more than anything else.” “Then some things about me _don't_ make you doubt me,” he said, with tentative eagerness. She was silent for a moment, then she nodded her head. “I'll admit that some things I hear of you make me rather admire you, in a way.” “Please tell me what they are,” he said, with a laugh. “I've heard, for one thing, of your being very good and kind to poor people--people who Mr. Mayhew would have turned out of their homes for debt if you hadn't interfered.” “Oh, that was only business, Cynthia,” Floyd laughed. “I simply can see farther than the old man can--that's all. He thought those customers never would be able to pay, but I knew they would some day, and, moreover, that they would come up with the back interest.” “I don't believe it,” the girl said, firmly. “Those things make me rather like you, while the others make--they make me--doubt.” “Doubt? Oh, you odd little woman!” They had reached a spring which flowed from a great bed of rocks in the side of a rugged hill. He pointed to a flat stone quite near it. “Do you remember, Cynthia, the first time I ever had a talk with you? It was while we were seated on this very rock.” She recalled it, but only nodded her head.