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There was a round of applause from the little group he had just left, in which Elsie joined heartily. Her eyes were glowing with admiration, for when was not power and daring captivating to a woman? Then, in sudden alarm and forgetfulness of her former coolness, she exclaimed:

“But how will you get back?”

“This is my bridge,” he replied, smiling brightly across to her, and holding on to the slender young tree. “You perceive that I was brought up in the country.”

So saying, he tied the sapling down to a root with a handkerchief, and then proceeded to fill another with moss.

As George saw Elsie’s face while she watched Stanhope gather the coveted trifle, he chuckled to himself–

“The ice is broken between them now.”

But Stanhope had insecurely fastened the sapling down. The strain upon the knot was too severe, and suddenly the young tree flew up and stood erect but quivering, with his handkerchief fluttering in its top as a symbol of defeat. There was an exclamation of dismay and Elsie again asked with real anxiety in her tone:

“How will you get back now?”

Stanhope shrugged his shoulders.

“I confess I am defeated, for there is no like sapling on this side; but I have the moss, and can join you at the bridge below, if nothing better offers.”

“George,” said Elsie, indignantly, “don’t go away and leave Mr. Stanhope’s handkerchief in that tree.”

“Bless you, child,” cried George, mischievously, and leading the way down the path, “I can’t climb anymore than a pumpkin. You will have to go back with him after it, or let it wave as a memento of his gallantry on your behalf.”

“If I can only manage to throw them together without any embarrassing third parties present, the ridiculous restraint they are under will soon vanish,” he thought; and so he hastened his steps. The rest trooped after him, while Stanhope made his way with difficulty on the opposite bank, where there was no path. His progress therefore was slow; and Elsie saw that if she did not linger he would be left behind. Common politeness forbade this, and so she soon found herself alone, carrying his overcoat on one bank, and he keeping pace with her on the other. She comforted herself at first with the thought that with the brawling, deafening stream between them, there would be no chance for embarrassing conversation. But soon her sympathies became aroused, as she saw him toilsomely making his way over the rocks and through the tangled thickets: and as she could not speak to him, she smiled her encouragement so often that she felt it would be impossible to go back to her old reserve.

Stanhope now came to a little opening in the brush. The cleared ground sloped evenly down to the stream, and its current was divided by a large rock. He hailed the opportunity here offered with delight, for he was very anxious to speak to her before they should join the others. So he startled Elsie by walking out into the clearing, away from the stream.

“Well, I declare; that’s cool, to go and leave me alone without a word,” she thought.

But she was almost terror-stricken to see him turn and dart to the torrent like an arrow. With a long flying leap, he landed on the rock in the midst of the stream, and then, without a second’s hesitation, with the impetus already acquired, sprang for the solid ground where she stood, struck it, wavered, and would have fallen backward into the water had not she, quick as thought, stepped forward and given him her hand.

“You have saved me from a ducking, if not worse,” he said, giving the little rescuing hand a warm pressure.

“Oh!” exclaimed she, panting, “please don’t do any more dreadful things. I shall be careful how I make any wishes in your hearing again.”

“I am sorry to hear you say that,” he replied. And then there was an awkward silence.