“We must be thinking about supper, mother,” said Elnora, while she set the wings of a Cecropia with much care.  “It seems as if I can’t get enough to eat, or enough of being at home.  I enjoyed that city house.  I don’t believe I could have done my work if I had been compelled to walk back and forth.  I thought at first I never wanted to come here again.  Now, I feel as if I could not live anywhere else.”

“Elnora,” said Mrs. Comstock, “there’s some one coming down the road.”

“Coming here, do you think?”

“Yes, coming here, I suspect.”

Elnora glanced quickly at her mother and then turned to the road as Philip Ammon reached the gate.

“Careful, mother!” the girl instantly warned.  “If you change your treatment of him a hair’s breadth, he will suspect.  Come with me to meet him.”

She dropped her work and sprang up.

“Well, of all the delightful surprises!” she cried.

She was a trifle thinner than during the previous summer.  On her face there was a more mature, patient look, but the sun struck her bare head with the same ray of red gold.  She wore one of the old blue gingham dresses, open at the throat and rolled to the elbows.  Mrs. Comstock did not appear at all the same woman, but Philip saw only Elnora; heard only her greeting.  He caught both hands where she offered but one.

“Elnora,” he cried, “if you were engaged to me, and we were at a ball, among hundreds, where I offended you very much, and didn’t even know I had done anything, and if I asked you before all of them to allow me to explain, to forgive me, to wait, would your face grow distorted and unfamiliar with anger?  Would you drop my ring on the floor and insult me repeatedly?  Oh Elnora, would you?”

Elnora’s big eyes seemed to leap, while her face grew very white.  She drew away her hands.

“Hush, Phil!  Hush!” she protested.  “That fever has you again!  You are dreadfully ill.  You don’t know what you are saying.”

“I am sleepless and exhausted; I’m heartsick; but I am well as I ever was.  Answer me, Elnora, would you?”

“Answer nothing!” cried Mrs. Comstock.  “Answer nothing!  Hang your coat there on your nail, Phil, and come split some kindling.  Elnora, clean away that stuff, and set the table.  Can’t you see the boy is starved and tired?  He’s come home to rest and eat a decent meal.  Come on, Phil!”

Mrs. Comstock marched away, and Philip hung his coat in its old place and followed.  Out of sight and hearing she turned on him.

“Do you call yourself a man or a hound?” she flared.

“I beg your pardon——­” stammered Philip Ammon.

“I should think you would!” she ejaculated.  “I’ll admit you did the square thing and was a man last summer, though I’d liked it better if you’d faced up and told me you were promised; but to come back here babying, and take hold of Elnora like that, and talk that way because you have had a fuss with your girl, I don’t tolerate.  Split that kindling and I’ll get your supper, and then you better go.  I won’t have you working on Elnora’s big heart, because you have quarrelled with some one else.  You’ll have it patched up in a week and be gone again, so you can go right away.”