Slowly the river flowed; the waves plashed, and the reeds swayed
lightly.
Green pine woods on one shore: the other was field and meadow, with a
road running through a little distance from the bank.
A girl came walking down the road, casting an anxious glance now and
again towards the river.
She stopped. A boom lay out in the river, lumbermen's poles were
strewn about on the farther bank. And something more--a man lay under
the trees at the edge of the wood, resting his head on one hand.
The girl looked at him thoughtfully. The man did not move. Still in
doubt, she took a step forward, and then drew back again. At last,
she turned off from the road, and walked resolutely down along a
watercourse straight towards the river.
Mingled emotion stirred in the young man's breast--joy at the meeting,
and wounded pride and bitterness. He felt an impulse to hurry across,
run to the girl and take her in his arms, forgetting all else. But
there was that between them cold and clear as the dividing water.
The girl reached the bank, and stood looking out over the water in
silence.
The young man could contain himself no longer. "You have come!" he
cried.
"How could I help it?" she said in a low voice--the words hardly
carried to the opposite bank.
"And I could not help thinking of you."