so bad, after all; you complain a good
deal, but seems to me you hadn't ought to." He trembled while he smiled.
"It's done a lot for you."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her face flushing with confusion.

"I mean"--he tried to laugh--"your best dress seems pretty tight for
you. Oh, if it only should be--"

"Don't be a fool," she angrily replied. "If anything like that happens,
I'll let you know."

His face lengthened, and the smile went out of his eyes. He accepted her
tone as final, too loyal to doubt her word. "Don't be mad; I was only in
hopes." He rose after a silence and went out with downcast head.

She sat rigidly, feeling as if the blood were freezing in her hands and
feet. The crisis was upon her. The time of her judgment was coming--and
she was alone! She burned with anger against Rivers. Why had he waited
and waited? "_He_ can put things off--he is a man, but I am the woman--I
must suffer it all." The pain, the shame, the deadly danger--all were
hers.

Burke returned, noisily, stamping his feet like a boy.

"It's snowin' like all git out," he said, "and I've got to rig up some
kind of a sled. I reckon winter has come in earnest now, and our
coal-pile is low."

He went to sleep with the readiness of a child, and as she lay listening
to his quiet breath she remembered how easy it had once been for her to
sleep. She had the same agony of pity for him that she would have felt
for a child she had wronged malevolently.

The next day Mrs. Bussy came over. At her rap Blanche called, "Come in,"
but remained seated by the fire.

The old woman entered, knocking the snow off her feet like a man.

"How de do, neighbor?"

Blanche drew her shawl a little closer around her. "Not very well; sit
down, won't you?"

"Can't stop. You don't seem very peart. I want to know what seems to be
the trouble." Her keen eyes had never seemed so penetrating before.
Blanche flushed and moved uneasily. She was afraid of the old creature,
who seemed half-man, half-woman.

"Oh, I don't know. Rheumatism, I guess."

"That so? Well, this weather is 'nough to give anybody rheumatiz. I
tell Ed--that's my boy--I tell Ed we made holy fools of ourselves comin'
out here. I never see such a damn country f'r wind." She rambled on
about the weather for some time, and at last rose. "Well, I wanted to
borrow your wash-boiler; mine leaks like an infernal old sieve, and I
dasen't go to town to get it mended for fear of a blow. What's troubl