ely to continue any quarrel,
however well begun. She was a round little person, complete in her
miniature beauties, and now her blue eyes sought him with an extremity
of emotion very honest and also timid. She had wrapped herself in a
little red shawl, and her hands, holding it tight about her, gave a
fantastic impression of being clasped in mute appeal. Jerry looked at
her in wonder. For an instant they both stood as still as two
wood-creatures surprisingly met and, so far, undetermined upon the
degree of hostility it would be wise to show.

Stella broke the silence. She retreated a little, in doing it, as if
words would bring her nearer and she repudiated that degree of intimacy.

"I just want a favor," she said humbly.

Jerry advanced a step as she withdrew, and the interval between them
stayed unchanged. Now the trouble in her face had its effect on him, and
he forgot for a moment how he hated her.

"Ain't anything the matter, is there?" he asked, in quick concern.

Stella shook her head, but her eyes brimmed over. That evidently annoyed
her, and she released the little shawl to lift a hand and brush the
tears away.

"Aunt Hill has come," she said.

He had an impulse to tell her, as a piece of news that would once have
concerned them both, that his own aunt was making her plans to go West
again, and that she had furnished the money for him to buy back the
precious strip of land. The city man, seeing how much he prized it, had
sold it to him. But while he reflected that now Stella cared nothing
about his intimate concerns, she was rushing on.

"And mother's sick," she ended.

"Sho!" said Jerry, in a sympathizing blur. "Real sick?"

"No, nothin' but her rheumatism. But it's in her back this time. She
can't move hand nor foot."

"Why, yes," said Jerry, leaning his axe against the trunk of the wounded
tree. "Course! you want I should go over 'n' help lift her."

Stella shook her head in definite finality.

"No, I don't either. Aunt Hill 'n' I can manage well enough. I guess
mother'd be provoked 'most to death if I run round callin' the menfolks
in."

"Well, what is it then?" asked Jerry, in palpable disappointment. "What
is 't you want me to do?"

He thought he had never seen her cheeks so red. They made him think of
the partridge-berries under the snow. She began her tale, looking
indifferently at him as she proceeded, as if to convince them both that
there was nothing peculiar in it all.

"Aunt Hi