ts wealth of harvest. The apples
dropped, rosy-cheeked, from the orchard trees, the corn and the
pumpkins ripened in the garden. All day the binder sang in the yellow
fields, and at night a great harvest moon hung alone in the violet
heavens. As soon as the first blue haze of autumn settled over the
ravine the mill closed, and the men scattered to work in the fields, or
at threshing-bees, or went farther north to the winter lumber camps.

John McIntyre did not leave, as people had expected. He remained in
his old shanty by the Drowned Lands, harvesting his little crop of
potatoes, or laying up his stock of winter wood from the adjacent
swamp. The village saw him only on the rare occasions when he came up
to the flour-mill or store for provisions. But he did not live a
solitary life, for the eldest Sawyer orphan had now become his chum and
confidant, and would have gone down to visit him almost every evening,
even if old Hughie Cameron had reversed proceedings and paid him to
stay away.

When the silent, dark man was removed from the village, and there was
no likelihood of encountering him on the street in the evening, Dr.
Gilbert Allen experienced a feeling of relief. Every time he met the
man's disdainful gaze, the remembrance of his accusation returned, and
with it a feeling of self-abasement. He longed to vindicate himself,
to put it beyond the range of possibility that any man could say he had
been dishonest. But that meant a great sacrifice, one that Gilbert was
not yet prepared to make.

When the first chill of the waning year came the doctor had a new
patient. All summer Miss Arabella Winters' health had been steadily
failing. She never complained, nor did she seem to have any disease,
but just pined quietly away. Susan scolded and petted and doctored
her, and made her wear flannel on her chest, but all to no avail. Miss
Arabella, in her gentle, unobtrusive fashion, grew steadily worse. She
seemed to have lost not only the power, but the desire, to get better.

Elsie Cameron had long noted the change in her friend, and strove in
every way to arouse her. One day she organized a nutting party down
into Treasure Valley, a still, smoky autumn day, when the rainbow
leaves floated down and rested lightly upon the earth with a fairy
touch. The orphans came, of course, and they flew up and down the
hill, gathering hazelnuts and red berries and scarlet leaves, while
Miss Arabella strayed here and there