had them for the sake of the girl who was "that sot on all such." He would open the box the moment he had eaten, and look them over. The little brother should take them down to her one at a time—or better—he would take them himself and watch the smile which came so rarely and sweetly to play about her lips, and in her eyes, and vanish. Surely he had a right to that for his pains.
He heard the sound of rapid hoof beats approaching across the level space from the cabin above him, and looking up, as if conjured from his innermost thought, he saw her coming, allowing the colt to swing along as he would. Her bonnet hung by the strings from her arm, her hair blew in crinkling wisps across her face, and the rapid exercise had brought roses into the creamy whiteness of her skin. She kept to the brow of the ridge and would have passed him unseeing, her eyes fixed on the distant hills, had he not called to her in his clear Alpine jodel.
She reined in sharply and, slipping from the saddle, walked quickly to him, leading the colt, which was warm and panting as if he had carried her a good distance at that pace.
"Oh, Doctor Thryng, we need you right bad. That's why I took this way home. Have you been to the house?"
"Yes. I have just come from there."
"Is mother all right?"