adge〃　when　they　forgot　themselves　and　each　other　in　their　work。
  To　Margaret　this　free　and　happy　life　together　seemed　natural　enough。　She　had　decided　on　the　day　of　their　first　meeting　that　Oliver's　interest　in　her　was　due　wholly　to　his　love　of　companionship；　and　not　because　of　any　special　liking　he　might　feel　for　her。　Had　she　not　seen　him　quite　as　cordial　and　as　friendly　to　the　men　he　knew？　Satisfied　on　this　point；　Oliver　began　to　take　the　place　of　a　brother；　or　cousin；　or　some　friend　of　her　youth　who　loved　another　woman；　perhaps；　and　was；　therefore；　safe　against　all　contingencies；　while　she　gave　herself　up　to　the　enjoyment　　of　that　rare　luxurythe　rarest　that　comes　to　a　womandaily　association　with　a　man　who　could　be　big　and　strong　and　sympathetic；　and　yet　ask　nothing　　in　return　for　what　she　gave　him　but　her　companionship　　and　confidence。
  In　the　joy　of　this　new　intercourse；　and　with　his　habit　of　trusting　implicitly　everyone　whom　he　loved　man；　woman；　or　childOliver；　long　before　the　first　month　was　over；　had　emptied　his　heart　to　Margaret　　as　completely　as　he　had　ever　done　to　Miss　Clendenning。　　He　had　told　her　of　Sue　and　of　Miss　Lavinia's　　boudoir；　and　of　Mr。　Crocker　and　his　pictures；　and　of　his　poor　father's　struggles　and　his　dear　mother's　determination　to　send　him　from　homenot　about　the　mortgage；　that　was　his　mother's　secret；　not　his　ownand　of　the　great　receptions　given　by　his　Uncle　Tilghman；　and　of　all　the　other　wonderful　doings　　in　Kennedy　Square。
  She　had　listened　at　first　in　astonishment；　and　then　with　impatience。　Many　of　the　things　that　seemed　so　important　to　him　were　valueless　in　her　more　practical　　eyes。　Instead　of　a　regime　which　ennobled　those　who　enjoyed　its　privileges；　she　saw　only　a　slavish　　devotion　to　worn…out　traditions；　and　a　clannish　provincialism　which　proved　to　her　all　the　more　clearly　the　narrow…mindedness　of　the　people　who　　sustained　and　defended　them。　So　far　as　she　could　judge；　the　qualities　that　she　deemed　necessary　in　the　make…up　of　a　robust　life；　instinct　with　purpose　and　accomplishment；　seemed　to　be　entirely　lacking　in　Kennedy　Square　formulas。　She　saw；　too；　with　a　certain　undefined　pain；　that　Oliver's　mind　had　been　greatly　warped　by　these　influences。　Mrs。　Horn's　domination　over　him；　strange　to　say；　greatly　disturbed　　her；　why；　she　could　not　tell。　〃She　must　be　a　proud；　aristocratic　woman；〃　she　had　said　to　herself　after　one　of　Oliver's　outbursts　of　enthusiasm　over　his　mother；　〃wedded　to　patrician　customs　and　with　no　consideration　for　anyone　outside　of　her　class。〃
  And　yet　none　of　these　doubts　and　criticisms　made　the　summer　days　less　enjoyable。
  One　bright；　beautiful　morning　when　the　sky　was　a　turquoise；　the　air　a　breath　of　heaven；　and　the　brooks　could　be　heard　laughing　clear　out　on　the　main　road；　Oliver　and　Margaret；　who　had　been　separated　for　some　days　while　she　paid　a　visit　to　her　family　at　home；　started　to　find　a　camp　that　Hank　had　built　the　winter　before　as　a　refuge　while　he　was　hunting　deer。　They　had　reached　a　point　in　the　forest　where　two　paths　met；　when　Margaret's　quick　ear　caught　the　sound　of　a　human　voice；　and　she　stopped　to　listen。
  〃Quick〃　she　cried〃get　behind　these　spruces；　or　he　will　see　us　and　stop　singing。　It's　old　Mr。　Burton。　　He　is　such　a　dear！　He　spends　his　summers　here。　I　often　meet　him　and　he　always　bows　to　me　so　politely；　although　he　doesn't　know　me。〃
  A　man　of　sixtybare…headed；　dressed　in　a　gray　suit；　with　his　collar　and　coat　over　his　arm　and　hands　filled　with　wild…flowers；　was　passing　leisurely　along；　singing　at　the　top　of　his　voice。　Once　he　stopped；　and；　bending　over；　picked　a　bunch　of　mountain…berries　which　he　tucked　into　a　buttonhole　of　his　flannel　shirt；　just　before　disappearing　in　a　turn　of　the　path。
  Oliver　looked　after　him　for　a　moment。　He　had　caught　the　look　of　sweet　serenity　on　the　idler's　face；　and　the　air　of　joyousness　that　seemed　to　linger　behind　him　like　a　perfume；　and　it　filled　him　with　delight。
  〃There；　Margaret！　that's　what　I　call　a　happy　man。　I'll　wager　you　he　has　never　done　anything　all　his　life　but　that　which　he　loved　to　dojust　lives　out　here　and　throws　his　heart　wide　open　for　every　beautiful　thing　that　can　crowd　into　it。　That's　the　kind　of　a　man　I　want　to　be。　Oh！　I'm　so　glad　I　saw　him。〃
  Margaret　was　silent。　She　was　walking　ahead；　her　staff　in　her　hand；　the　fallen　trunks　and　heavy　under…　brush　making　it　difficult　for　them　to　walk　abreast。
  〃Do　you　think　that　he　never　had　to　work；　to　be　able　to　enjoy　himself　as　he　does？〃　she　asked　over　her　shoulder；　with　a　toss　of　her　head。
  〃Perhapsbut　he　loved　what　he　was　doing。〃
  〃No；　he　didn'the　hated　ithated　it　all　his　life。〃　The　tone　carried　a　touch　of　defiance　that　was　new　to　Oliver。　He　stepped　quickly　after　her；　with　a　sudden　desire　to　look　into　her　face。　Ten　minutes；　at　least；　had　passed　during　which　he　had　seen　only　the　back　of　her　head。
  Margaret　heard　his　step　behind　her　and　quickened　her　own。　Something　was　disturbing　the　joyousness　of　our　young　Diana　this　lovely　summer　morning。
  〃What　did　the　old　fellow　do　for　a　living；　Margaret？〃　　Oliver　called；　still　trying　to　keep　up　with　Margaret's　springing　step。
  〃Sold　lard　and　provisions；　and　over　the　counter；　too；〃　she　answered；　with　a　note　almost　of　exultation　in　her　voice　（she　was　thinking　of　Mrs。　Horn　and　Kennedy　Square）。　〃Mrs。　Taft　knows　him　and　used　to　send　him　her　bacon。　He　retired　rich　some　years　ago；　and　now　he　can　sing　all　day　if　he　wants　to。〃
  It　was　Oliver's　turn　to　be　silent。　The　tones　of　Margaret's　voice　had　hurt　him。　For　some　minutes　he　made　no　reply。　Then　wheeling　suddenly　he　sprang　over　a　moss…covered　trunk　that　blocked　her　path；　stepped　in　front　of　her；　and　laid　his　hand　on　her　shoulder。
  〃Not　offended；　Margaret；　are　you？〃　he　asked；　looking　earnestly　into　her　eyes。
  〃Nowhat　nonsense！　Of　course　not。　Why　do　you　ask？〃
  〃Well；　somehow　you　spoke　as　if　you　were。〃
  〃No；　I　didn't；　I　only　said　how　dear　Mr。　Burton　was；　and　he　IS。　How　silly　you　are！　Comewe　will　be　late　for　the　camp。〃
  They　both　walked　on　in　silence；　now；　he　ahead　this　time；　brushing　aside　the　thick　undergrowth　that　blocked　the　path。
  The　exultant　tones　in　her　voice　which　had　hurt　her　companion；　and　which　had　escaped　her　unconsciously；　　still　rang　in　her　own　ears。　She　felt　ashamed　of　the　outburst　now　as　she　watched　him　cutting　the　branches　ahead　of　her；　and　thought　how　gentle　and　tender　he　had　always　been　to　her　and　how　watchful　over　her　comfort。　She　wondered　at　the　cause　of　her　frequent　discontent。　Then；　like　an　evil　spirit　that　would　not　down；　there　arose　in　her　mind；　as　she　walked　on；　the　picture　she　had　formed　of　Kennedy　Square。　She　thought　of　his　mother's　imperious　nature　　absorbing　all　the　love　of　his　heart　and　inspiring　and　guiding　his　every　action　and　emotion；　of　the　unpractical　fathera　dreamer　and　an　enthusiast；　the　worst　possible　example　he　could　have；　of　the　false　standards　and　class　distinctions　which　had　warped　his　early　life　and　which　were　still　dominating　him。　With　an　abrupt　gesture　of　impatience　she　stood　still　in　the　path　and　looked　down　upon　the　ground。　An　angry　flush　suffused　her　face。
  〃What　a　stupid　fool　you　are；　Margaret　Grant；〃　she　burst　out　impatiently。　〃What　are　Kennedy　Square　and　the　whole　Horn　family　to　you？〃
  Oliver's　halloo　brought　her　to　consciousness。
  〃Here's　that　slant；　Margaretoh；　such　a　lovely　spot！　Hurry　up。〃
  〃The　slant〃　had　been　built　between　two　great　trees　and　stood　on　a　little　mound　of　earth　surrounded　by　beds　of　velvety　green　mosshuge　green　winding　sheets；　under　which　lay　the　bodies　of　many　giant　pines　and　hemlocks。　The　shelter　was　made　of　bark　and　bedded　down　with　boughs　of　sweet…balsam。　Outside；　　on　a　birch　sapling；　supported　by　two　forked　sticks；　hung　a　rusty　kettle。　Beneath　the　rude　spit；　half…hidden　by　the　growth　of　the　summer；　lay　the　embers　of　the　abandoned　camp…fires　that　had　warmed　and　comforted　Hank　and　his　companions　the　preceding　　winter。
  Oliver　raked　the　charred　embers　from　under　the　tangled　vines　that　hid　them；　while　Margaret　peeled　the　bark　from　a　silver…birch　for　kindling。　Soon　a　curl　of　blue　smoke　mounted　heavenward；　hung　suspended　　over　the　tree…tops；　and　then　drifted　away　in　scarfs　of　silver　haze　dimming　the　forms　of　the　giant　trunks。
  Our　young　enthusiast　watched　the　Diaz　of　a　wood　interior　turn　slowly　into　a　Corot；　and　with　a　cry　of　delight　was　about　to　unstrap　his　own　and　Margaret's　sketching…kits；　when　the　sun　was　suddenly　blotted　out　by　a　heavy　cloud；　and　the　quick　gloom　of　a　mountain…storm　chilling　the　sunlit　vista　to　a　dull　slate　gray　settled　over　the　forest。　Oliver　walked　over　to　the　brook　for　a　better　view　of　the　sky；　and　came　back　bounding　over　the　moss…covered　logs　as　he　ran。　There　was　not　a　moment　to　lose　if　they　would　escape　being　drenched　to　the　skin。
  The　outlook　was　really　serious。　Old　Bald　Face　had　not　only　lost　his　smilea　marvelously　happy　one　with　the　early　sun　upon　his　wrinkled　countenance　but　he　had　put　on　his　judgment…cap　of　gray　clouds　and　had　begun　to　thunder　out　his　disapproval　of　everything　about　him。　Moose　Hillock　evidently　heard　the　challenge；　for　he　was　answering　back　in　the　murky　darkness。　Soon　a　cold；　raw　wind；　which　had　been　asleep　in　the　hills　for　weeks；　awoke　with　a　snarl　and　started　down　the　gorge。　Then　the　little　leaves　began　to　quiver；　the　big　trees　to　groan；　i