Toward this boyish lover, also, her feelings had been altered. A little of the old-time fondness remained, however. She could not put that away. She had tried and tried earnestly, yet the wildwood illusion still lingered. She had meant, also, to put him and herself quite apart--so far, and in such a way, that she would never be found by him. That had failed, however; he knew where she was. He had said that he was coming here. Most likely he would expect to renew the old tender relations; but in that he would be disappointed. She was sure she would be glad to see him for old times' sake, however. She would be gracious and dignified, as Aunt Abby was. She wanted to hear all about the woods and Old Cy again, but caresses must be forbidden. More than that, every time she recalled how freely she had permitted them once, she blushed and felt that it would be an effort to look him in the face again. But she was anxious to see how he would appear now: whether the same boy, with frank, open face, or a commanding, self-possessed man. And so each pleasant afternoon she strolled up this byway road. When the ancient carryall was sighted, she hid and watched until it passed. But Captain Mix, its driver, also had observing eyes. He knew her now as far as he could see her, as every one in the village did, and he soon noticed her unusual conduct. He also watched along the wayside where she left it, and slyly observed her peeping out from some thicket. Just why this odd proceeding happened time and again, he could not guess, and not until a strange young man alighted from the train one day and asked to be left at the home of Mrs. Abby Bemis, did it dawn on him. Then he laughed. "Friend o' Aunt Abby, I 'spose?" he inquired in his Yankee fashion, after they had started. "No," answered Ray, frankly, "I have never seen the lady. I know some one who is living with her, however. A Miss Mc--Raymond, I mean." Captain Mix glanced at him, his eyes twinkling. "So ye're 'quainted with Vera, be ye," he responded. "Wal, ye're lucky." Then as curiosity grew he added, "Known her quite a spell, hev ye?" But Ray was discreet. "Oh, three or four years," he answered nonchalantly. "I knew her when she lived in Greenvale." Then to check the stage-driver's curiosity, he added, "She was only a little girl, then. I presume she has changed since." "She's a purty good-lookin' gal now," asserted Captain Mix, "but middlin' odd in her ways. Not much on gallivantin' round wi' young folks, but goin' to school stiddy 'n' roamin' round the woods when she ain't. Purty big gal to be goin' to school she is. I callate her arly eddication must 'a' been sorter neglected. Mebbe ye know 'bout it," and once more this persistent Yankee glanced at his companion.