nset sky.

At the cabin they met Carrie, for whom Estelle was both sister and
mother. The little shanty slanted on the side of a swell like a little
boat sliding up a monstrous mid-ocean wave. Around it lay a little
garden inhabited by a colony of chicken-coops--"All my own making,"
Estelle said. "Oh, of course, sister held the nails and bossed, but I
did it. I like it, too. It's more fun than working red poppies on
tidies--that's about all they'll let you do back East."

"It doesn't matter much what you do out here," said Rivers, meaningly.

"Oh yes, it does. Some things are wrong anywhere; but there are other
things which people _think_ are wrong that are only unusual," she
answered, and he knew she knew what he meant.

The talk moved on to lighter themes, and then died away as the three sat
in the doorway and saw the light fade out of the sky.

Carrie's thin, eager face shone with angelic light. She seemed to hold
her breath as flame after flame of the marvellous light was withdrawn.

"Oh, the sky is so big out here," she whispered. Estelle locked hands
with her and sat in silence. Rivers, awkward and constrained, respected
their emotion. At last he rose.

"I'm going over to Burke's a little while, so I'll have to be moving."

"Mrs. Burke is very strange," said Estelle; "I can't seem to get on with
her. She seems very lonely and restless. Her husband is away a great
deal, but I can't get her to talk, when I call, and she never returns my
call."

"She never seemed that way to me," Rivers said, having nothing better in
mind at the moment.

"I think she's homesick. I wish I knew how to help her, but I don't."

Rivers walked away with two thoughts in his mind. One was the girl's
sentence about things that were wrong and things which people thought
were wrong, and the other was the question about Blanche--was she
homesick? That puzzled him. Had he only seen her in her joyous moods? It
was not pleasant to think of her growing sad--perhaps on his account.

Burke sat on a bench outside the door, smoking silently in the dusk.
Blanche was stirring about inside.

"Hello, Rivers!" Burke called. "Take a seat." He pointed at a
vinegar-keg.

Blanche hurried to meet her visitor, a beautiful smile on her face.
"Come inside," she said. "I've got some work to do, and I want to hear
you men talk." They obediently complied, and she lighted a lamp. "I like
to see you when you talk," she added, flashing a smile at Rivers.