“Oh, the sun will dry me,” she laughed, stepping from the path to the bare earth of the rose bed. “Why, when you get well into the sunshine it feels like summer.” She talked on merrily, and he, paying small heed to what she said, kept his ardent look upon her face. His joy was in her bright presence, in the beauty of her smile, in the kind eyes that shone upon him. Speech meant so little when he could put out his arm and touch her if he dared. “I am going away in an hour, Betty,” he said, at last. “But you will be back again at Christmas.” “At Christmas! Heavens alive! You speak as if it were to-morrow.” “Oh, but time goes very quickly, you know.” Dan shook his head impatiently. “I dare say it does with you,” he returned, irritably, “but it wouldn't if you were as much in love as I am.” “Why, you ought to be used to it by now,” urged Betty, mercilessly. “You were in love last year, I remember.” “Betty, don't punish me for what I couldn't help. You know I love you.” “Oh, no,” said Betty, nervously plucking rose leaves. “You have been too often in love before, my good Dan.” “But I was never in love with you before,” retorted Dan, decisively. She shook her head, smiling. “And you are not in love with me now,” she replied, gravely. “You have found out that my hair is pretty, or that I can mix a pudding; but I do not often let down my hair, and I seldom cook, so you'll get over it, my friend, never fear.” He flushed angrily. “And if I do not get over it?” he demanded. “If you do not get over it?” repeated Betty, trembling. She turned away from him, strewing a handful of rose leaves upon the grass. “Then I shall think that you value neither my hair nor my housekeeping,” she added, lightly. “If I swear that I love you, will you believe me, Betty?” “Don't tempt my faith, Dan, it's too small.” “Whether you believe it or not, I do love you,” he went on. “I may have been a fool now and then before I found it out, but you don't think that was falling in love, do you? I confess that I liked a pair of fine eyes or rosy cheeks, but I could laugh about it even while I thought it was love I felt. I can't laugh about being in love with you, Betty.” “I thank you, sir,” replied Betty, saucily. “When I saw you kneeling by the fire in free Levi's cabin, I knew that I loved you,” he said, hotly. “But I can't always kneel to you, Dan,” she interposed. He put her words impatiently aside, “and what's more I knew then that I had loved you all my life without knowing it,” he pursued. “You may taunt me with fickleness, but I'm not fickle--I was merely a fool. It took me a long time to find out what I wanted, but I've found out at last, and, so help me God, I'll have it yet. I never went without a thing I wanted in my life.” “Then it will be good for you,” responded Betty. “Shall I put some rose leaves into your pocket?” She spoke indifferently, but all the while she heard her heart singing for joy.