“What would I miss in the city?  A continual round of social events, of which I am more than tired, and going here and there in a vain effort to find happiness.  I long to be free in the highest sense, and not to be chained to a system which to me is deadening.”

“You certainly put your belief into practice when you ran away from home.  I am glad you do not regret it.”

“No, I have not the least regret.  If I felt that my parents are mourning for me I would feel badly.  But they treated me so cruelly in trying to force me to marry the man I hate, that I do not care how they feel.”

“But suppose they find out where you are and compel you to go home?”

“They may find me, but they cannot make me go back.  I have tasted the joy of freedom from their rule, and shall henceforth think and act for myself.  You may consider me ungrateful, but if you knew what my life has been like you would not blame me.”

They had reached the border of a grove of small trees, and here in an old fence wild flowers flourished in abundance and ran riot over the moss-covered poles.  Jess stooped, picked a wild rose, and inhaled its sweet fragrance.  John, watching, thought he had never beheld a more perfect picture of beauty, grace and maidenly charm.  His soul thrilled within him, and moving impulsively forward, he took the rose from her hand, and placed it gently in her hair.  He smiled as he stepped back to view the effect.

“Excuse me,” he apologised, “but I could not help it.  That is the place for the rose; it makes you look great.”

Then he caught her by the hand and led her down the narrow path which led to the water.  Nearby stood a large tree, with great outspreading branches, and under this they stopped, John’s heart was beating fast, while the girl’s face almost equalled the rose in colour.  The world and its cares were forgotten as they stood there on that bright summer afternoon.  They were living in a world of their own, for love had cast its mystic charm over their young lives.

“Why need you leave this place?” John suddenly asked.  “Why not stay here always?  I want you, and must have you?  Would you not be happy here with me?”

He was still holding her hand, which he now pressed more firmly than ever.  How he longed to take the girl in his arms, and imprint a kiss upon her rosy lips.  He wanted to confess to her his great love, and to hear her tell of hers.  But she did not at once reply.  Her face, from which some of the colour had fled, was turned toward the river, and her hand trembled.

“Don’t you know that I love you?” John impetuously insisted.  “Can’t you feel it in my every word and act?  I love you as I never believed it possible to love any woman.”

Then Jess looked into his eyes, and the expression the young man saw there filled his heart with joy.

“You do love me,” he cried, “and you will be mine.  Oh, tell me so!”