ttered; "well, 't ain't as bad as the Hills, but it's
all bad an' muddlin', an' I don't feel equal t' tacklin' it. The dear
Lord knows I don't. I hate t' have a job what I know from the start I'm
goin' t' botch, but the Lord's got t' take the consequences if He calls
'pon me. 'T warn't any of my doin's, the Lord knows that!"

Bluff Head was closed, whether for the season or not Janet did not care.
From the region of the barns James B.'s voice came, singing a hymn, but
Eliza Jane had either gone for the day or for altogether. Janet ran
around to the cellar window, keeping the house between her and the
barns. The window still swayed inward to her touch! The long skirts and
new womanhood retarded movement somewhat, but the agile body had not
forgotten its cunning. In a minute or two Janet stood in the vacant
library. She drew in long breaths. Eliza Jane had aired the room well,
but there was a hint of tobacco smoke still. Upon a stand was a vase of
golden rod, yellow and vivid amid the rich coloring.

"Some people leave a house a great deal lonelier than others," whispered
the girl; "it will never be quite the same."

Devant's presence, his vital personality seemed near and potent. She and
he had been reading a book together in that early summer time before
guests had appeared to disturb the quiet happiness; she would go back to
the book and begin alone what they had eagerly pursued in company. Janet
went to the bookcase; the book was gone and its neighbors were leaning
over the vacant space endeavoring to conceal its absence. Failing to
find the volume, the girl went to the table and took up, one by one, the
magazines and books which covered it.

"Ah!" she said suddenly, "I have you!" Under a pile, near Devant's
leather chair, was what she sought, a copy of Bacon's Essays. Devant had
taken a curious interest in leading this untutored girl into all manner
of paths and bypaths. It was a never-failing delight to him to watch her
crude but keen gripping of the best from each. Alone now, and with a
shadow across the path where once companionship and pleasure had borne
part, she took the Essays to the deep window, raised the sash, and
nestled down to what comfort was hers.

As was ever the case, the subject caught her fancy and in seeking the
pearl she forgot the effort. Presently she was aware of a key grating in
the lock of the hall door. Eliza Jane was, perhaps, returning; or more
likely James B. had an errand inside. Ja