wed humbly, gratefully, because he had been so kind and told her
nothing mattered if she would marry him. But now she felt a sudden
snapping of the bond and she knew that, in her mind, at least, in her
moments of solitude with the baby, she could dance upon the hills of
life. It was an entirely new sense of ecstasy, a thrilling of her blood.
She laughed out, a low, excited laugh, and put him from her and called
gaily:

"You slice the ham, an' I'll git out some eggs."

Tenney stared at her a minute, perplexed and wondering. Then his face
relaxed slightly. It might have been said he smiled. There was
apparently a good feeling in the house, such as he had never been able
to create. She had always been kind, conformable, but she had never
laughed like this, nor in his sight taken up the baby and tossed him
until he, too, laughed gurglingly. She cooked the dinner and Tenney, not
able to take himself out of her bewildering presence, hung about and
watched her and, when the baby began to fret for food, took him up and
walked with him until Tira was free. And while they ate dinner the baby
slept again on the lounge: for the cradle, grim witness Tenney could not
bring himself to look at now, had been moved into the bedroom.

"D'you see that feller jest goin' when you come into the yard?" Tenney
asked her, when his first hunger was over and he leaned back in his
chair to look at her where she sat, only picking at her food, he thought
anxiously. She seemed queer to him to-day, with the rapt, exalted look
of one who had seen strange things and been tired by them, the tremulous
eloquence of her lips. She was, he owned to himself, yet not with any
satisfaction, because any smallest allurement in her lessened his chance
of keeping her faith inviolate, a likely looking woman.

"I wish," he said irritably, out of his uneasiness over her, "you'd eat
suthin.' You're all beat out."

She smiled at him. She felt kindly toward him as to a part of the world
that had at least begun to show its softer side to her.

"No," she said, "I ain't beat out."

"D'you see him?" he pursued, his thoughts recurring to Raven.

"Yes," she responded, in a low tone, "I see him."

"'Twas Raven. You knew he was comin' up to stay a spell. Don't ye
remember I see Jerry an' he told me? He wants me to go down in his river
pastur', choppin'. All of a whew to git at it. Jest like them city
folks. If a thing comes into their head, they'll shake the footstool but