Perhaps it was only fancy, but it might be that some one was lying there in pain and needing assistance.

Instantly she flew toward the spot, her heart beating wildly; she drew near, started back and caught at a young sapling for support; yes, there lay a motionless form among the fallen branches, that of a man, a gentleman, as she discerned by what she could see of his clothing; her heart told her the rest.

Another moment and she was kneeling at his side, gazing with unutterable anguish into the still white face.

“He is dead, the fall has killed him.”  She had no hope of anything else at the moment; there seemed no possibility of life in that rigid form and death-like face; and she made no effort to give assistance or to call for it.  She was like one turned to stone by the sudden crushing blow.  She loved and she had lost—­that was all she knew.

But at length this stony grief gave place to a sharper anguish, a low cry burst from her lips, and hot scalding tears fell upon his face.

They brought him back to consciousness, and he heard her bitter sighs and moans; he knew she thought him dead and mourned as for one who was very dear.

He was in terrible pain, for he had fallen with his leg bent under him and it was badly broken; but a thrill of joy shot through his whole frame.  For a moment more he was able to control himself and remain perfectly still, then his eyelids quivered, and a groan burst from him.

At the sound Elsie started to her feet, then bending over him, “You’re hurt, Lester,” she said, unconsciously addressing him for the first time by his Christian name; “what can I do for you?”

“Have me carried to Fairview,” he said faintly; “my leg is broken and I cannot rise or help myself.”

“Oh, what can I do,” she cried, “how can I leave you alone in such pain?  Ah!” as steps were heard approaching, “here is grandpa coming up in search of me.”

She ran to meet him and told him what had happened.

He seemed much concerned.  “Solon is here with the carriage,” he said.  “I was going to ask your company for a drive, but we will have him take Leland to Fairview first.  Strange what could have taken him into that tree!”

That broken limb kept Lester Leland on his back for six long weeks.

His aunt nursed him with the utmost kindness, but could not refrain from teasing him about his accident, asking what took him into the tree, and how he came to fall, till at last, in sheer desperation, he told her the whole story of his love, his hopelessness on account of his poverty, his determination not to go back to Ion to be thanked by Elsie and her parents for saving her life, his inability to go or stay far away from her; and finally owned that he had climbed the tree simply that he might be able to watch her, himself unseen.

“Well, I must say you are a sensible young man!” laughed Mrs. Leland; “but it was very unromantic to be so heavy as to break the limb and fall.”