The forgotten pistol dropped, full cocked to the soft earth, and Hale with bewildered eyes went slowly to her. “Don't cry,”--he said gently, starting to call her name. “Don't cry,” he repeated, and he waited helplessly. “He's dead. Dave was shot--out--West,” she sobbed. “I told him I was coming back. He gave me his horse. Oh, how could you?” “Why did you come back?” he asked, and she shrank as though he had struck her--but her sobs stopped and she rose to her feet. “Wait,” she said, and she turned from him to wipe her eyes with her handerchief. Then she faced him. “When dad died, I learned everything. You made him swear never to tell me and he kept his word until he was on his death-bed. YOU did everything for me. It was YOUR money. YOU gave me back the old cabin in the Cove. It was always you, you, YOU, and there was never anybody else but you.” She stopped for Hale's face was as though graven from stone. “And you came back to tell me that?” “Yes.” “You could have written that.” “Yes,” she faltered, “but I had to tell you face to face.” “Is that all?” Again the tears were in her eyes. “No,” she said tremulously. “Then I'll say the rest for you. You wanted to come to tell me of the shame you felt when you knew,” she nodded violently--“but you could have written that, too, and I could have written that you mustn't feel that way--that” he spoke slowly--“you mustn't rob me of the dearest happiness I ever knew in my whole life.” “I knew you would say that,” she said like a submissive child. The sternness left his face and he was smiling now. “And you wanted to say that the only return you could make was to come back and be my wife.” “Yes,” she faltered again, “I did feel that--I did.” “You could have written that, too, but you thought you had to PROVE it by coming back yourself.” This time she nodded no assent and her eyes were streaming. He turned away--stretching out his arms to the woods. “God! Not that--no--no!” “Listen, Jack!” As suddenly his arms dropped. She had controlled her tears but her lips were quivering. “No, Jack, not that--thank God. I came because I wanted to come,” she said steadily. “I loved you when I went away. I've loved you every minute since--” her arms were stealing about his neck, her face was upturned to his and her eyes, moist with gladness, were looking into his wondering eyes--“and I love you now--Jack.” “June!” The leaves about them caught his cry and quivered with the joy of it, and above their heads the old Pine breathed its blessing with the name--June--June--June. XXXV