unsteadily from the stump. "Why, if we stood in each other's boots, "he said, with a gentle chuckle, "or, to be exact, if I stood in your two boots and you in my one, as sure as fate, you'd be thinking my way and I yours. Well, I wish I could help you, but as I can't I'll be moving slowly back." He shuffled off on his crutches, painfully swinging himself a step at a time, and Christopher, after a moment's puzzled stare at his pathetic figure, returned diligently to his work. His passage along the green aisle was very slow, and when at last he reached the extreme end by the little beaten path and felled the last stalk on his left side he straightened himself for a moment's rest, and stood, bareheaded, gazing over the broad field, which looked as if a windstorm had blown in an even line along the edge, scattering the outside plants upon the ground. The thought of his work engrossed him at the instant, and it was with something of a start that he became conscious presently of Maria Fletcher's voice at his back. Wheeling about dizzily, he found her leaning on the old rail fence, regarding him with shining eyes in which the tears seemed hardly dried. "I have just left Will," she said; "the doctor has set his leg and he is sleeping. It was my last chance--I am going away to-morrow--and I wanted to tell you--I wanted so to tell you how grateful we feel." The knife dropped from his hand, and he came slowly along the little path to the fence. "I fear you've got an entirely wrong idea about me, "he answered. "It was nothing in the world to make a fuss over--and I swear to you if it were the last word I ever spoke--I did not know it was your brother." "As if that mattered!" she exclaimed, and he remembered vaguely that he had heard her use the words before. "You risked your life to save his life, we know that. Grandpa saw it all--and the horses dragged you, too. You would have been killed if the others hadn't run up when they did. And you tell me--as if that made it any the less brave that you didn't know it was Will." "I didn't, "he repeated stubbornly. "I didn't." "Well, he does, " she responded, smiling; "and he wants to thank you himself when he is well enough." "If you wish to do me a kindness, for heaven's sake tell him not to," he said irritably. "I hate all such foolishness it makes me out a hypocrite!" "I knew you'd hate it; I told them so," tranquilly responded the girl. "Aunt Saidie wanted to rush right over last night, but I wouldn't let her. All brave men dislike to have a fuss made over them, I know." "Good Lord!" ejaculated Christopher, and stopped short, impatiently desisting before the admiration illumining her eyes. >From her former disdain he had evidently risen to a height in her regard that was romantic in its ardour. It was in vain that he told himself he cared for one emotion as little as for the other--in spite of his words, the innocent fervour in her face swept over the barrier of his sullen pride.