e cleared the table and washed the dishes, putting them in their
accustomed places, and stopped suddenly with the last of the china in
her hand, wondering how long it would be before she held it again.
Upstairs, she quickly packed her hand-bag for "a one-night camp" and,
keeping ears and eyes alert, noted when at length her father had gone to
his office and her mother had settled to her knitting. Then she went to
her room and set about a careful toilet. The rebellious forelock was
curled on a hot slate pencil and tucked back among its kind. Over each
ear, she selected another lock for like elaboration. She put on her most
becoming dress and studied the effect of her two brooches to make sure
which one would help the most. She dashed a drop of "Violetta" on her
handkerchief and pinched her cheeks to heighten their colour and remove
the traces of the previous night's vigil. The beauty-parlour methods
were not yet known in Cedar Mountain.

Jim always dropped in for a chat in the morning and it was not long
before his cheery whistle sounded as down the street he came to the tune
of "Merry Bandon Town." In his right hand he twirled a stout stick in a
way that suggested a very practical knowledge of the shillelah. The
flush of health and of youth suffused his cheeks and mounted to his
forehead. All signs of worry over his impending fate were gone; indeed,
no worry could live long in his buoyant mind; its tense electric
chargement was sure death to all such microbes. Arrived at the Boyds',
he did not stop to open the five-foot gate. Laying his fingers on the
post, he vaulted over the pickets.

Belle met him on the porch. From somewhere back, Ma Boyd called out a
thin-voiced "good morning," as they went into the front room.

"My little girl looks pale to-day," he said, as he held her at arm's
length.

"Yes, I didn't sleep well. I wish I could get out for a few hours. Can't
you take me?"

"Sure, that's what I came for," he answered gaily.

"I don't feel much like riding, Jim. Can you get a good buckboard?"

"Why, yes, of course I can. Carson says I can have his double-harness
buckboard any time, ponies and all."

"Good! Just the thing. I want to go out to Bylow's Corner to make a
call, and maybe farther, if we can manage. I'll be ready by the time you
are here with the rig."

She went to her desk and wrote a note to her father. Somehow, mother
didn't seem to count.

DEAR DAD: If I am not home to-night, I shall b