him, Miss Roussillon."

Little help came to her from attempts of this sort. She might brighten
up for a while, but the dark dread, and the terrible gnawing at her
heart, the sinking and despairing in her soul, could not be cured.

What added immeasurably to her distress was the attention of
Farnsworth, whose wound troubled him but a short time. He seemed to
have had a revelation and a change of spirit since the unfortunate
rencounter and the subsequent nursing at Alice's hands. He was grave,
earnest, kindly, evidently striving to play a gentle and honorable
part. She could feel that he carried a load of regret, that he wanted
to pay a full price in good for the evil that he had done; his sturdy
English heart was righting itself nobly, yet she but half understood
him, until his actions and words began to betray his love; and then she
hated him unreasonably. Realizing this, Farnsworth bore himself more
like a faithful dog than in the manner hitherto habitual to him. He
simply shadowed Alice and would not be rebuffed.

There can be nothing more painful to a finely sympathetic nature than
regret for having done a kindness. Alice experienced this to the
fullest degree. She had nursed Farnsworth but a little while, yet it
was a while of sweet influence. Her tender woman nature felt the
blessedness of doing good to her enemy lying helpless in her house and
hurt by her own hand. But now she hated the man, and with all her soul
she was sorry that she had been kind to him; for out of her kindness he
had drawn the spell of a love under which he lived a new life, and all
for her. Yet deep down in her consciousness the pity and the pathos of
the thing hovered gloomily and would not be driven out.

The rain in mid-winter gave every prospect a sad, cold, sodden gray
appearance. The ground was soaked, little rills ran in the narrow
streets, the small streams became great rivers, the Wabash overflowed
its banks and made a sea of all the lowlands on either side. It was
hard on the poor dwellers in the thatched and mostly floorless cabins,
for the grass roofs gradually let the water through and puddles formed
on the ground inside. Fuel was distant and had to be hauled in the
pouring rain; provisions were scarce and hunting almost impossible.
Many people, especially children, were taken ill with colds and fever.
Alice found some relief from her trouble in going from cabin to cabin
and waiting upon the sufferers; but even here Farnswort