"Shall I cross over and make inquiry?" was the reflection that followed, as he became calmer. "The people can, no doubt, give me some information, whether he be dead, and if she be still in the neighbourhood. No--no; I will not ask. I dread the answer to be given me. "But, why not? I may as well know now the worst, whatever it be. I must learn it in time. Why not at once? "There is no danger of my being recognised--even she would not know me, and these people are, perhaps, strange to the settlement. The country shows a change--clearings everywhere around, where I remember only trees. I wonder who they are? Some of them should, soon come out by that door. The day is inviting; I shall hold back awhile and see." During all this time the young man had been standing among thick underwood that screened his person from view. He only changed position so that his face should be also invisible to any one upon the other side of the creek, and thus stood with eyes fixed intently upon the house. He had not been many minutes in this attitude of expectation, when the front door, which stood open, was filled by a form, the sight of which sent the blood in a lava current through his veins, and caused his heart to bound audibly in his breast. The apparition that had produced this effect was a young girl--a lady she might be called--in light summer dress, with a white kerchief thrown loosely over her head, only partially concealing the thick coil of shining hair held by the tortoiseshell comb underneath it. Standing on the step of the door, with the dark background behind her, she appeared like some fair portrait suddenly set in its frame. Changed as she was since he had last seen her--a young girl in coarse, copperas-dyed gown of homespun stuff, bareheaded, stockingless and shoeless--he who stood among the trees might not so readily have recognised her had he met her elsewhere; but there, upon that spot where stood the old cabin, under whose roof he had lived and loved--loved her--recognition came at the first glance. He knew that the fair vision before him was Lena Rook, still living, still lovely as ever. STORY ONE, CHAPTER FIFTEEN. LENA'S RECOGNITION. The first impulse of the young man was to spring forth from his ambush, leap over the creek, a mere rivulet, and rush into the presence of the fair creature who had shown herself in the doorway. He was restrained by a crowd of thoughts that came surging up at the moment--doubts and memories--both painful. Her father might be still alive and inside the house. The stranger had serious reasons for not wishing to see _him_. Or he might be dead and she now under the control of another!