r comfort-accustomed body. The woven rag rugs of blue and white
upon the floor were of Georgiana's own making. An ancient desk, which
had belonged to Mr. Warne's mother, was carefully fitted with all the
small articles one could desire in reason, taken from Georgiana's
cherished college equipment. The washstand in the corner, behind a
home-made screen of clever design, was furnished with two beautiful old
blue-and-white ewers--the pride of Georgiana's heart, for they had come
over from England with her great grandmother; and the rack was hung as
full with towels as fastidious bather could desire. There were two or
three interesting old prints upon the walls. Altogether, with its small
bedroom fireplace laid ready for a fire, and a blue denim-covered
woodbox filled to overflowing with more wood----

She had forgotten to fill the woodbox, as yet. It was nearly time to
dress for Jeannette's coming. Georgiana ran hurriedly downstairs and
through the kitchen, warm and fragrant with the baking of the day in
preparation for the coming supper, and in that pleasant order which the
kitchen of the good housewife shows at four in the afternoon. In the
woodshed beyond she gathered a great armful of wood, not to bother with
the basket, which would not hold so much--and hurried back again, making
toward the front stairs this time, because the back stairs were narrow
and steep, and one could not rush up them at great speed with one's arms
full of wood.

"Wait a minute, please, Miss Warne!"

The front door of the house shut with a bang, and hasty footsteps caught
up with Georgiana at the foot of the stairs, just as one big stick
tumbled loose from her hold and went crashing down behind her.

"Oh, never mind," she panted. The load was much heavier than she had
realized, but she had not meant to be caught upon the front stairs with
it--not even if it had been James Stuart who came to her rescue.

It was not Stuart, but evidently one quite of Stuart's mind, for
Georgiana now found her arms unburdened of their heavy incumbrance
without further parley, and herself put where she belonged by this cool
command:

"Never carry a load like this when you have a man in the house."

"But--but we haven't!" objected Georgiana, her voice a trifle
breathless. She followed Mr. Jefferson, as he strode up the stairs with
the wood. She opened the door of the guest-room and lifted the cover of
the woodbox.

"Haven't?" he questioned, dumping the wood