“Why?”

“I was too near Newbury, and under the spell of old feelings and memories; and I don’t care to sleep again.”

As they were about to leave the dear little nook, “Arthur,” said Julia, “let us buy a bit of this land, and keep this little romantic spot from destruction.”  So they went out through the trees in the warm sun, Bart with Prince’s bridle in his hand, and Julia with her skirt over one arm and the other in that of her lover.

“I hold tightly to your arm,” said Bart, laughing, “so that if you vanish, I may vanish with you.”

“And I will be careful and not go to sleep while we are at Wilder’s, for fear you will steal away from me, you bad boy.  If you knew how I felt when I woke and found you had gone—­”

“I should not have gone,” interrupted Bart.

Thus all the little sweet nothings that would look merely silly on paper, and sound foolish to other ears, yet so precious to them, passed from one to the other as they went.

Wilder had eaten his dinner, and lounged out into the sun, with his pipe, as they walked up.  He knew Julia, of course, and Prince, and looked hard at Bart, as they passed; when the comely wife came running out.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, taking Julia’s hand, “and this—­this is Mr. Ridgeley.”

“It is indeed,” said Bart, brightly.

“And you are not—­not—­Oh! your two hearts are happy I see it in both your faces.  I am so glad.”

Julia bent and kissed her.

“Oh, I knew when he went off so heart-broken, that it wasn’t your fault, and I always wished I had kept him.”

Sweet, shy, blushing Rose came forward, and Bart took her hands and hoped she would look upon him as an older brother long absent, and just returned.  And little lisping George, staring at him curiously, “Are you Plinth Arthur?”

“Prince Arthur?” cried Bart, catching him up, “do I look like a prince?”

“Yeth.”

“Take that,” said Bart, laughing, giving him a gold coin.

“He is a prince,” said Julia, “and you see he gives like a prince.”

“Exactly,” answered Bart; “princes always give other peoples’ gold for flattery.”

“And now, Mr. Wilder, I want you to put your saddle on Prince, and gallop straight to my mother, and drive back a carriage.  I found this unhappy youth wandering about in these same woods, and I am going to take him with me this time.”

When Wilder was ready, she gave him the following note: 

“Dear Mother:—­I am so blessed and happy.  Arthur and I met this morning in the dear old nook under the rocks, and we are the happiest two in the world.

“JULIA.

“P.S.  I forgot.  Send a carriage by Wilder.  I don’t want a driver.  We will go round by Arthur’s mother’s, and be with you this evening.  J.

“P.S.  Send me a skirt.”

And whether the sun stood still or journeyed on, they did not note, nor could they remember what Mrs. Wilder gave them for dinner, or whether they tasted it.  At last Wilder appeared with a light carriage and pair.  Julia’s saddle was put on board, and the lovers, Julia holding the reins, drove away.