“It concerns me, and happened long ago?  I am interested already.  Begin!”

“It was in the summer of 1872.  I was a clerk in a bank then, at Rivermouth, and the directors had given me a vacation.  I hired a crazy old horse and started on a journey through New Hampshire.  I didn’t have any destination; I merely purposed to ride on and on until I got tired, and then ride home again.  The weather was beautiful, and for the first three or four days I never enjoyed myself better in my life.  The flowers were growing, the birds were singing—­the robins in the sunshine and the whippoorwills at dusk—­and the hours were not long enough for me.  At night I slept in a tumble-down barn, or anywhere, like a born tramp.  I had a mountain brook for a wash-basin and the west wind for a towel.  Sometimes I invited myself to a meal at a farm-house when there wasn’t a tavern handy; and when there wasn’t any farm-house, and I was very hungry, I lay down under a tree and read in a book of poems.”

“Oh, that was just delightful!” said Ruth, knitting the fingers of both hands over one knee and listening to him with a child-like abandon which Lynde found bewitching.

“On the fourth day—­there are some persons crossing on the ice,” said Lynde, interrupting himself.

“Never mind the persons on the ice!”

“On the fourth day I came to a wild locality among the Ragged Mountains, where there was not a human being nor a house to be seen.  I had got up before breakfast was ready that morning, and I was quite anxious to see the smoke curling up from some kitchen chimney.  Here, as I mounted a hill-side, the saddle-girth broke, and I jumped off to fix it.  Somehow, I don’t know precisely how, the horse gave a plunge, jerked the reins out of my hands, and started on a dead run for Rivermouth.”

“That wasn’t very pleasant,” suggested Ruth.

“Not a bit.  I couldn’t catch the animal, and I had the sense not to try.  I climbed to the brow of the hill and was not sorry to see a snug village lying in the valley.”

“What village was that?”

“I don’t know to this day—­with any certainty.  I didn’t find out then, and afterwards I didn’t care to learn.  Well, I shouldered my traps and started for the place to procure another horse, not being used to going under the saddle myself.  I had a hard time before I got through; but that I shall not tell you about.  On my way to the village I met a young girl.  This young girl is the interesting part of the business.”

“She always is, you know.”

“She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen—­up to that time.  She was dressed all in white, and looked like an angel.  I expected she would spread wing and vanish before I could admire her half enough; but she did not.  The moment she saw me she walked straight to the spot where I stood, and looked me squarely in the face.”

“Wasn’t that rather rude—­for an angel?”