All through the summer and fall, when the day’s work was done, or on a Sunday afternoon, they were together, and gradually the woods and the hills, with all the wild life that is in them, began to have for the young man a new meaning; or, rather, he learned little by little to read the message that lay on the open pages; first a word here and there, then sentences, then paragraphs, and soon he was reading alone, as he tramped the hills for stray stock, or worked in the mountain field. The idle days of winter and the long evenings were spent in reading aloud from the books that had come to mean most to her. So she led him on slowly, along the way that her teacher had pointed out to her, but always as they went, he saw her going before, far ahead, and he knew that in the things that men call education, he could never hope to stand by her side. But he was beginning to ask, are there not after all things that lie still deeper in life than even these? Often he would go to his old friend in the Hollow with some thought, and the shepherd, seeing how it was, would smile as he helped the lad on his way. The scholar looked forward with confidence to the time when young Matt would discover for himself, as Sammy had found for herself, that the only common ground whereon men and women may meet in safety is the ground of their manhood and womanhood. And so it was, on that spring morning when the young giant felt the red life throbbing strongly in his great limbs, as he followed his team to and fro across the field. And in his voice, as he shouted to his horses at the end of the furrow, there was something under the words, something of a longing, something also of a challenge. Sammy was going to spend the day with her friends on Jake Creek. She had not been to see Mandy since the night of her father’s death. As she went, she stopped at the lower end of the field to shout a merry word to the man with the plow, and it was sometime later when the big fellow again started his team. The challenge in his tone had grown bolder. Sammy returned that afternoon in time for the evening meal, and Aunt Mollie thought, as the girl came up the walk, that the young woman had never looked so beautiful. “Why, honey,” she said, “you’re just a bubblin’ over with life. Your cheeks are as rosy; your eyes are as sparklin’, you’re fairly shinin’ all over. Your ride sure done you good.” The young woman replied with a hug that made her admirer gasp. “Law, child; you’re strong as a young panther. You walk like one too; so kind of strong, easy like.” The girl laughed. “I hope I don’t impress everybody that way, Aunt Mollie. I don’t believe I want to be like a panther. I’d rather be like—like—” “Like what, child?” “Like you, just like you; the best, the very best woman in the whole world, because you’ve got the best and biggest heart.” She looked back over her shoulder laughing, as she ran into the house.