s he ate Nancy
slipped shyly into the room. She had stayed outside in frightened
misery, feeling that all the trouble was her fault. Her mother said
kindly:

"That's right, child, come on in; our boy is better now." The little
girl sat down timidly on the edge of a chair, and Steve took in the
complete vision.

Soft yellow locks strayed out from a ribbon and tumbled about before a
pair of deep blue eyes. Round cheeks were pink and soft, sweet lips
were red and shyly smiling, a white apron with ruffles almost covered
a blue gingham dress. The boy held his breath at the beauty of the
apparition. He had never dreamed of anything so sweet and pretty in
all the world.

It was not long before Mr. Follet returned with the doctor and the
broken arm was successfully set, Steve bearing the pain "like a
trump," as Mr. Follet put it. Then Mrs. Follet said he must go to bed
at once, and he went up a tiny flight of stairs to a bed in a little
attic chamber which she had made ready. Knowing the ways of mountain
folk, Mrs. Follet did not insist that he undress, as the task would
be difficult for him with the broken arm. He slept soundly in spite of
pain in the arm upon a remarkable bed "off the floor" and awoke
feeling well, and eager to see again his new friends.

When he got down the stairs, Mrs. Follet was busy getting the
breakfast, and Mr. Follet was ready with questions.

"Where under the cano_pee_ (which was a favourite expression with Mr.
Follet) did you drap from yesterday, just in time to save our Nancy?
You don't live hereabouts, do you?"

"No," said Steve, "I come from Hollow Hut."

"And where's that?" returned Mr. Follet.

Steve couldn't tell very clearly, but gave an account of his long
journey and told about the watch and the fox skin which he was going
to take to the man in the city.

Mr. and Mrs. Follet were much interested in his story, so much so that
they forgot the waiting breakfast. Then they turned to it, but Steve
had remembered that he dropped his fox skin as he ran to Nancy's
rescue and he wanted to go at once for it, but Mrs. Follet would not
let him go till he had eaten breakfast. The neatly laid table with its
snowy cloth was a new wonder to Steve, and when the little girl,
looking fresh and sweet as a rose, sat down opposite him, he was so
awed and thrilled he could scarcely eat. Angels could hardly have
given him a more heavenly vision than did this little girl.

Breakfast over, Steve starte