d strictly forbidden his passing the dead line.

Keziah opened the door and entered the little building. The living room
was empty, but at the sound of her step some one came from the room
adjoining. That some one was Grace.

"Aunt Keziah!" she cried. "What did you come here for? Why did you?"

"Gracie!" exclaimed the housekeeper. "You?--YOU?"

Dr. Parker appeared, holding up a hand for silence.

"Hush!" he cried. "He's quiet now and I think he will sleep. Don't talk
here. Go outside, if you must talk--and I suppose you must."

Grace led the way. Fortunately, the door was on the side not visible
from the spot where Captain Zeb and the rest were standing. Keziah,
bewildered and amazed at the girl's presence, followed dumbly.

"Now, auntie," whispered Grace, turning to her, "you want to know how
he is, of course. Well, I think he is better. The doctor thinks so, too.
But why did you come here?"

"Why did I come? I? Why, because my place was here. I belonged here.
For the love of mercy's sakes what are YOU doin' here? With HIM? And the
smallpox!"

"Hush. I can't help it. I don't care. I don't care for anything any
more. I'm glad I came. I'm glad I was the one to find him and help him.
No matter what happens--to me--I'm glad. I never was so glad before. I
love him, Aunt Keziah. I can say it to you, for you know it--you must
know it. I LOVE him and he needed me and I came. He was calling my name
when I found him. He might have died there, alone in the wet and cold,
and I saved him. Think what that means to me."

The girl was in a sort of frenzy of excitement and hysterical
exaltation. All the night she had been calm and quiet, repressing her
feelings, and tending the man she loved. Now, with some one to whom she
could confide, she was calm no longer. Keziah answered her soothingly,
questioning her from time to time, until, at last, she learned the whole
story.

The door opened softly and Dr. Parker came out.

"He's asleep," he said. "And he's better, much better. And I'll tell you
something else, if you won't make too much noise about it--he hasn't got
the smallpox."

The two women looked at him.

"Fact," he said, with an emphatic nod. "Not a symptom of it. I'd have
bet my best hat that he wasn't going to have it and I won't have to go
bareheaded yet awhile. He is pretty close to brain fever, though, but I
guess he'll dodge that this time, with care. On the whole, Keziah, I'm
glad you came. This young lady,"