ever seen it before.

"I didn't understand that you were married," he said gently.

"Didn't you? I don't think you ever called me by any name at all, or I
should have noticed your mistake and set you right. Yes, I'm married. I
came out here to get strong for the babies."

"Got a boy an' a girl, eh?"

"Yes."

"How old's th' boy?"

"Five."

"An' th' girl?"

"She'll soon be four."

"An' yer husband--he's livin'?"

"I should say so! I'm a very happy woman, Mr. Roeder. If only I were
stronger!"

"Yer lookin' much better," he said, gravely, "than when you come. You'll
be all right."

The moon began to come up scarlet beyond the eastern hills. The two
watched it in silence. Kate had a feeling of guilt, as if she had been
hurting some helpless thing.

"I was in hopes," he said, suddenly, in a voice that seemed abrupt and
shrill, "thet you'd see fit t' stay here."

"Here in Helena? Oh, no!"

"I was thinkin' I'd offer you that two hundred thousand dollars, if
you'd stay."

"Mr. Roeder! You don't mean-surely--"

"Why, yes. Why not?" He spoke rather doggedly. "I'll never see no other
woman like you. You're different from others. How good you've been t'
me!"

"Good! I'm afraid I've been very bad--at least, very stupid."

"I say, now--your husband's good t' you, ain't he?"

"He is the kindest man that ever lived."

"Oh, well, I didn't know."

A rather awkward pause followed which was broken by Roeder.

"I don't see jest what I'm goin' t' do with that thar two hundred
thousand dollars," he said, mournfully.

"Do with it? Why, live with it! Send some to your mother."

"Oh, I've done that. Five thousand dollars. It don't seem much here; but
it'll seem a lot t' her. I'd send her more, only it would've bothered
her."

"Then there is your house,--the house with the bath-room. But I suppose
you'll have other rooms?"

Peter laughed a little in spite of himself.

"I guess I won't have a house," he said. "An' I couldn't make a garden
alone."

"Hire a man to help you." Kate was trembling, but she kept talking
gayly. She was praying that nothing very serious would happen. There was
an undercurrent of sombreness in the man's manner that frightened her.

"I guess I'll jest have t' keep on dreamin' of that boy playin' with th'
roses."

"No, no," cried Kate; "he will come true some day! I know he'll come
true."

Peter got up and stood by her chair.

"You don't know nothin' about it," he said. "You don'