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 "No, you may not," she answered, severely.

"Very well. But you will let me help you back with this stuff?" he asked, penitently.

"I don't need any assistance, thank you, Mr. Fallon."

"But it's too much for you, Miss Lynde! Please let me"

"Please stay where you are," she replied, with dignity.

"Oh!" said Miles.

She folded the easel, took it under her arm, lifted the paint-box and canvas, and, without further notice of him, walked down the glade toward the road.

Miles stood and watched her until she was out of sight among the trees at the end of the glade. Then, with Bistre trotting sleepily along at heel, he strode home, whistling blithely.