n', your father says his daughter is in
the coach; and Bill says, says he to me, 'I'll pack--I'll carry the
old--I'll bring up Mrs. Mayfield, if you'll bring up the daughter;'
and when we come to the coach I saw you asleep--like in the corner, and
bein' small, why miss, you know how nat'ral it is, I"--

"Oh, Mr. Jeff! Mr. Briggs!" said Miss Mayfield plaintively, "don't,
please--don't spoil the best compliment I've had in many a year.
You thought I was a child, I know, and--well, you find," she said
audaciously, suddenly bringing her black eyes to bear on him like a
rifle, "you find--well?"

What Jeff thought was inaudible but not invisible. Miss Mayfield saw
enough of it in his eye to protest with a faint color in her cheek. Thus
does Nature betray itself to Nature the world over.

The color faded. "It's a dreadful thing to be so weak and helpless,
and to put everybody to such trouble, isn't it, Mr. Jeff? I beg your
pardon--your aunt calls you Jeff."

"Please call me Jeff," said Jeff, to his own surprise rapidly gaining
courage. "Everybody calls me that."

Miss Mayfield smiled. "I suppose I must do what everybody does. So it
seems that we are to give you the trouble of keeping us here until I get
better or worse?"

"Yes, miss."

"Therefore I won't detain you now. I only wanted to thank you for your
gentleness last night, and to assure you that the bear-skin did not give
me my death."

She smiled and nodded her small head, and wrapped her shawl again
closely around her shoulders, and turned her eyes upon the mountains,
gestures which the now quick-minded Jeff interpreted as a gentle
dismissal, and flew to seek his aunt.

Here he grew practical. Ready money was needed; for the "Half-way House"
was such a public monument of ill-luck, that Jeff had no credit. He must
keep up the table to the level of that fortunate breakfast--to do which
he had $1.50 in the till, left by Bill, and $2.50 produced by his Aunt
Sally from her work-basket.

"Why not ask Mr. Mayfield to advance ye suthin?" said Aunt Sally.

The blood flew to Jeff's face. "Never! Don't say that again, aunty."

The tone and manner were so unlike Jeff that the old lady sat down half
frightened, and taking the corners of her apron in her hands began to
whimper.

"Thar now, aunty! I didn't mean nothin',--only if you care to have me
about the place any longer, and I reckon it's little good I am any way,"
he added, with a new-found bitterness in his ton