eation and
fresh air. She endeavored to forget them, but she could not, though her
resolve to ignore them was as strong as it ever had been when her
burdens had seemed lighter! But in spite of her resolve, and in spite of
the fact that it could not be said that any encouragement had been given
to repeat his addresses, Rumway continued to work at his house and
grounds steadily, and, to all appearance, hopefully. And although he
never consulted Mrs. Smiley now concerning the arrangement of either, he
showed that he remembered her suggestions of the year before, by
following them out without deviation.

Thus quietly, without incident, the June days slipped away, and the
perfect July weather returned once more, when there was always a chair
or two out on the sunset porch at evening. At last Chillis re-appeared,
and took a seat in one of them, quite in the usual way. He had been
away, he said, attending to some business.

"An' I have fixed that matter all right about the boy's schoolin'," he
added. "The papers are made out in the clerk's office, an' will be sent
to you as soon as they are recorded. There are five hundred and forty
acres, which you will know how to manage better than I can tell you. You
can sell by and by, ef you can't yet the money out of it any other way.
The taxes won't be much, the land being unimproved."

"You do not mean that you have _deeded_ all your land to Willie?" asked
Mrs. Smiley. "I protest against it: he must not have it! Would you let
us rob you," she asked wonderingly. "What are _you_ to do, by and by, as
you say?"

"Me? I shall do well enough. Money is o' no use to me. But ef I should
want a meal or a blanket that I couldn't get, the boy wouldn't see me
want them long. Ef he forgot old Joe Chillis, his mother wouldn't, I
reckon."

"You pay too high a price for our remembrance, Mr. Chillis; we are not
worth it. But why do you talk of forgetting? You are not going away from
us?"

"Yes; I am goin' to start to-morrow for my old stampin' ground, east o'
the mountains. My only livin' son is over there, somewhar. He don't
amount to much--the Indian in him is too strong; but, like enough, he
will be glad to see his father afore I die. An' I want to git away from
here."

"You will come back? Promise me you will come back?" For something in
his voice, and his settled expression of melancholy and renunciation,
made her fear he was taking this step for a reason that could not be
named between