cial condition might have been much darker, had
in this outdoor life become bleached almost white. The weather which
had whitened the hair had tanned the skin to bronze, making the blue
eyes more vivid by contrast and the red lips redder. These were
smiling now, over well kept teeth, and there was about the whole
bearing of the maid something suggestive of the woodland in which she
had been reared.

Purity, honesty, freedom, all spoke in every motion and tone, and to
this observer, at least, seemed better than any beauty. Presently, he
was able to push her too willing hand gently away and to say:

"Not quite so fast, please."

"Oh! uncle! Hear him? He talks just as you do! Not a bit like Pierre,
or Joe, or the rest."

Mr. Dutton came forward, smiling and remonstrating.

"My dear, our new friend will think you quite rude, if you discuss him
before his face, so frankly. But, sir, I assure you she means nothing
but delight at your recovery. We are all most thankful that you are
here and safe. There, Margot. Let the gentleman rest a few minutes.
Then a cup of coffee may be better than the stew. Were you long
without food, friend?"

The stranger tried to answer but the effort tired him, and with a
beckoning nod to the young nurse, the woodlander led the way back to
the table and their own delayed supper. Both needed it and both ate it
rather hastily, much to the disgust of Angelique who felt that her
skill was wasted; but one was anxious to be off out of doors, to learn
the damage left by the storm, and the other to be back on her stool
beside the lounge. When Mr. Dutton rose, the housekeeper left her own
seat.

"I'll fetch the lantern, master. But that's the last of Snowfoot's
good milk you'll ever drink," she sighed, touching the pitcher sadly.

"What? Is anything wrong with her?"

"The cow-house is in ruins. So are the poultry coops. What with
falling ill yourself just at the worst time and fetchin' home other
sick folks we might all go to wrack and nobody the better."

The familiar grumbling provoked only a smile from the master, who
would readily have staked his life on the woman's devotion to "her
people" and knew that the apparent crossness was not that in reality.

"Fie, good Angelique! Never so happy as when you're miserable. Come
on. Nothing must suffer if we can prevent. Take care of our guest,
Margot, but give him his nourishment slowly, at intervals. I'll get
some tools, and join you at the shed, A