of the thin, tall father whom yesterday she had not
known. She understood that if her uncle succeeded in his wicked plans,
she, too, would join that small number of people, dead and buried,
under the pines. Her father's words brought the cemetery, with its
broken cross and headstones, its low toolhouse, and the restless night
spirits, closer than Matty, with her vivid, ghastly tales, had ever
done. In the past, Matty had stood between her and her fears; in the
future, there would be only a stranger, her uncle, the man her father
had just warned her against. At length Mr. Singleton coughed
painfully, and spoke with evident effort.

"The doctor told me not long ago I might die at any moment. That's
what made me escape--I mean, what drove me home."

He rose and walked nervously up and down the room.

"The doctor made me think of you. I can't live long."

"It's awful bad," answered the girl, sighing. "I wouldn't know where
to go if there wasn't any Matty--or--you."

Her voice lowered on the last word, and she continued: "I wish I had
my mother. Matty says mothers kiss their girls and make over 'em like
Milly Ann does with her kittens--do they? Some of 'em?"

The father glanced curiously into the small, earnest, uplifted face.

"I couldn't help being your girl," pursued Virginia. "I'd have had
another father if I could, one who'd 've loved me. Matty says even
fathers like their kids sometimes--a little." She paused a minute, a
wan, sweet smile passing over her lips. "But I've got Milly Ann and
her kittens, and they're soft and warm and wriggley."

What a strange child was this daughter of his! She spoke of cats as if
they were babies; of loving as if it were universal. Each moment, in
her presence, he realized more and more what he had missed in thus
neglecting her. But he had hurried to Mottville from foreign lands to
perform one duty, at least,--to save her, if possible. So he returned
to his vital subject.

"Your Uncle Jordan's coming, perhaps this week. He's found out I'm
here! That's why you must go away."

"Shall I--just go?" queried Virginia. "I don't know of any special
place--do you?" and she shivered again as the wind, in a fierce gust,
blew out from the slumbering fire a wreath of smoke that encircled the
room and hung grey-blue about the ceiling.

"I only know one man," reflected Mr. Singleton, presently, "and you'll
have to find him yourself--after I've gone, of course; but if Jordan
Morse should c