It was a real treat to see how Lois enjoyed her supper, sipping and
tasting the warm coffee, her face in a glow, like an epicure over some
rare Falernian. You would be sure, from just that little thing, that
no sparkle of warmth or pleasure in the world slipped by her which she
did not catch and enjoy and be thankful for to the uttermost. You
would think, perhaps, pitifully, that not much pleasure or warmth would
ever go down so low, within her reach. Now that she stood on the
ground, she scarcely came up to the level of the wheel; some deformity
of her legs made her walk with a curious rolling jerk, very comical to
see. She laughed at it, when other people did; if it vexed her at all,
she never showed it. She had turned back her calico sun-bonnet, and
stood looking up at Mrs. Howth and Joel, laughing as they talked with
her. The face would have startled you on so old and stunted a body.
It was a child's face, quick, eager, with that pitiful beauty you
always see in deformed people. Her eyes, I think, were the kindliest,
the hopefullest I ever saw. Nothing but the livid thickness of her
skin betrayed the fact that set Lois apart from even the poorest
poor,--the taint in her veins of black blood.

"Whoy! be n't this Tiger?" said Joel, as the dog ran yelping about him.
"How comed yoh with him, Lois?"

"Tiger an' his master's good friends o' mine,--you remember they allus
was. An' he's back now, Mr. Holmes,--been back for a month."

Margret, walking in the porch with her father, stopped.

"Are you tired, father? It is late."

"And you are worn out, poor child! It was selfish in me to forget.
Good-night, dear!"

Margret kissed him, laughing cheerfully, as she led him to his
room-door. He lingered, holding her dress.

"Perhaps it will be easier for you to-morrow than it was to-day?"
hesitating.

"I am sure it will. To-morrow will be sure to be better than to-day."

She left him, and went away with a step that did not echo the promise
of her words.

Joel, meanwhile, consulted apart with his mistress.

"Of course," she said, emphatically.--"You must stay until morning,
Lois. It is too late. Joel will toss you up a bed in the loft."

The queer little body hesitated.

"I can stay," she said, at last. "It's his watch at the mill to-night."

"Whose watch?" demanded Joel.

Her face brightened.

"Father's. He's back, mum."

Joel caught himself in a whistle.

"He's very stiddy, Joel,--as sti