. Then you needn't be out
alone at all. I know how you feel, but I don't believe you need worry.
He'll be done with you now forever, er I'll miss my guess. Now you go lie
down till I make a cup o' tea."

Marcia was glad to be alone, and soon fell asleep, worn out with the
excitement, her brain too weary to go over the awful occurrences of the
morning. That would come later. Now her body demanded rest.

Miranda, coming upstairs with the tea, tiptoed in and looked at her,--one
round arm thrown over her head, and her smooth peachy cheek resting
against it. Miranda, homely, and with no hope of ever attaining any of the
beautiful things of life, loved unselfishly this girl who had what she had
not, and longed with all her heart to comfort and protect the sweet young
thing who seemed so ill-prepared to protect herself. She stooped over the
sleeper for one yearning moment, and touched her hair lightly with her
lips. She felt a great desire to kiss the soft round cheek, but was afraid
of wakening her. Then she took the cup of tea and tiptoed out again, her
eyes shining with satisfaction. She had a self-imposed task before her,
and was well pleased that Marcia slept, for it gave her plenty of
opportunity to carry out her plans.

She went quickly to David's library, opened drawers and doors in the desk
until she found writing materials, and sat down to work. She had a letter
to write, and a letter, to Miranda, was the achievement of a lifetime. She
did not much expect to ever have to write another. She plunged into her
subject at once.

"DEAR MR. DAVID:" (she was afraid that sounded a little stiff, but
she felt it was almost too familiar to say "David" as he was
always called.)

"I ain't much on letters, but this one has got to be writ.
Something happened and somebody's got to tell you about it. I'm
most sure she wont, and nobody else knows cept me.

"Last night 'bout dark I went out to feed the chickens, an' I see
that nimshi Harry Temple skulkin round your house. It was all dark
there, an he walked in the side gate and tried to peek in the
winders, only the shades was down an he couldn't see a thing. I
thought he was up to some mischief so I followed him down the
street a piece till he turned down the old corduroy road. It was
dark by then an I come home, but I was on the watchout this
morning, and after Mis' Spafford come down to the house I heard a
horse gal