Stranger as the young man was, they could not have taken him to a better place, for Widow Gray was the dearest old woman in the neighborhood. She lived quite alone in a tidy cottage back among a grove of maples, or a “sugar camp,” as the country people called it; for here in the early spring was always produced that toothsome dainty, maple sugar, so dear to the hearts of school children. The widow had a neat spare room that she often let to a summer boarder, and to this white-hung chamber she quickly led Doctor Barnes with his patient, her round face beaming with good-nature as she promised to do all she could for the unfortunate young stranger. “He will need your best nursing, I fear,” exclaimed Doctor Barnes; for, on getting his patient down upon the bed, he immediately fainted again, and the swoon was so deep that it was difficult to revive him. “Oh, he is dead!” sobbed Leola; and the thought carried with it such agony that it changed and darkened the whole world to her young heart, so dear had the handsome stranger grown already. CHAPTER IV. BEWARE OF JEALOUSY. How glad she was when he opened his eyes again, and faltered: “I am quite ashamed of myself, fainting away like a weak woman. I will promise not to do so again, doctor.” Doctor Barnes quickly made him as easy as possible, and left him to the widow’s care, promising to call again that evening to see how he fared, and also to send word to the livery stable about the horse and trap. Leola felt she had no further excuse for staying, although, somehow, she could not bear to go. She went into the room to say farewell, and he entreated her to stay, in a weak voice, reinforced by pleading eyes. She smiled, and shook her head. “It is better I should go now, for the doctor says you must have absolute rest and quiet to-day, and I am a sad chatterbox, but I will come to-morrow and bring you some flowers,” she promised. She pressed his hand in mute farewell, and the contact thrilled her with rapturous emotion, for even with his pallor and his bandaged head he appeared to her a king among men--a veritable Prince Charming. A great change had come to her heart since she rode out so blithely that morning, and the words of her simple song were coming true: “A honey-comb and a honey-flower. And the bee shall have his hour.” She forgot all about her errand to town, and, remounting Rex, went for a long ride, miles away, to a beautiful Blue Sulphur Spring, where she lingered for hours upon the green lawn, dreaming over and over the startling event of the day, and gazing anon into the sparkling depths of the water, as if she might read in its pellucid depths the secret of her future. And she recalled, with a sudden thrill, the gypsy who had told her fortune last year, saying: “You will have a handsome, blue-eyed husband, and you will adore each other; but beware of jealousy, or it will part you forever.”