s, he saw
it grow under his eyes, just as the love grew in his own heart at the
same moment.

Love! what sort of word was that for him to be using, even in his mind?
To-morrow she would be gone, this wandering fiddler, and all this would
be forgotten in a day, for he had the new cattle to see to, and a
hundred things of importance.

But was anything else of importance save just this one girl? and if he
should let her go on her way, out into the world again, to certain
perdition, would not the guilt be partly his? He, who saw and knew the
perils and pitfalls, might he not snatch this child from the fire and
save her soul alive?--No! he would begone, as soon as morning came, and
take this sinful body of his away from temptation.

How soon would Abby get through her morning work, so that he might with
some fair pretext go to the house to see how the stranger had slept,
and how she had fared? It would be cowardly to drop the burden on
Abby's shoulders, she only a woman like the rest of them, even if she
had somewhat more sense.

So Jacques De Arthenay sat by his fire till it was cold and dead, a
miserable and a wrathful man; and he too slept little that night.

But Marie slept long and peacefully in Sister Lizzie's bed, and looked
so pretty in her sleep that Abby came three times to wake her, and
three times went away again, unable to spoil so perfect a picture. At
last, however, the dark eyes opened of their own accord, and Marie
began to chirp and twitter, like a bird at daybreak in its nest; only
instead of daybreak, it was eight o'clock in the morning, a most
shocking hour for anybody to be getting up. But Abby had been in the
habit of spoiling her sister, who had a theory that she was never able
to do anything early in the morning, and so it was much more
considerate for her to stay in bed and keep out of Abby's way. This is
a comfortable theory.

"I suppose you've been an early riser, though?" said Abby, as she
poured the coffee, looking meanwhile approvingly at the figure of her
guest, neatly attired in a pink and white print gown, which fitted her
in a truly astonishing manner, proving, Abby thought in her simple way,
that it had really been a "leading,"--her bringing the stranger home
last night.

"Oh, but yes," Marie answered. "I help always Old Billy wiz the dogs
first, they must be exercise, and do their tricks, and then they are
feed. So hungry they are, the dogs! It make very hard not first to