ace, its contrite kindliness, her own set again into
its determined composure. She seemed to see that she could not count on
aid outside herself and returned again uncomplainingly to her old
equilibrium of endurance.

"Come back," he said. "She's going down to the house with me. Besides,
if she did stay, you'd like her. You'd love her. That's only Nan."

He said "Nan" of set purpose. It was the custom of this country folk,
when they talked among themselves, to call all alike by their Christian
names, even when they scrupulously used the surname in direct address.
He meant to reassure her. It was a way of bringing Nan into a friendly
nearness.

"You've heard of her," he said, "Miss Hamilton's niece. She owns the
next house to mine, the Hamilton house. She'll be here this summer.
You'll be neighbors. Come back and speak to her."

"No," said Tira, in a gentle obstinacy. "I guess I'll be gittin' along
toward----"

Here she stopped. She did not know what the direction or the end of her
journey was to be.

"You're not going off the place," said Raven bluffly. "That's flat. The
place is mine and you're safe on it. Do you want to go traipsing round
the woods in this snow"--he fell purposely into the country habit of
speech--"and get wet to your knees and have a cold?"

"I sha'n't have a cold," she said, smiling dimly at him and looking, as
he realized, like a mother who was sorry her son could not have all he
grasped at, but still remained immovable. "I don't hardly remember
havin' one since I was little."

The child had resumed the role of Buddhistic calm temporarily abandoned
last night when he screamed out his distaste for earthly complications,
and Raven, glancing at the solemn blue eyes, saw that the only hope of
moving her lay in him.

"Do you want," he shot at random, "to have the baby get chilled--and
hungry?" There he broke off, though he saw that did move her. He had to
know from what extremity she fled. "Has this been going on all night?"
he asked.

"No," she said, with the same air of gently reassuring him. "I slept
'most all night. So did he, Mr. Tenney, I guess. An' we started out all
right this mornin'. But after he'd read the chapter an' prayed, it all
come over him ag'in, an' I had to go."

"After he'd read his chapter," said Raven. "And prayed! God!"

The invocation sounded as if he also prayed.

"This time," she continued, "he--he seemed to have a realizin' sense."

She paused a perplexed mo