Jeannie, you're making an idol of her----"

"Why not? With all our troubles and poverty, I'm rich in her! She's
fifteen years old, her head teeming with romance. You know, I was married
at fifteen. There'll be a half dozen boys to see her to-night in our new
home--all of them head over heels in love with her."

"Oh, Jeannie, you must not be so silly! We should worship God only."

"Isn't she God's message to me and to the world?"

"But if anything should happen to her----"

The young mother laughed. "I never think of it. Some things are fixed. Her
happiness and beauty are to me the sign of God's presence."

"Well, I'm glad you're coming to live with us in the heart of town. This
place is a cosey nest, just such a one as a poet lover would build here in
the edge of these deep woods, but it is too far out for you to be alone.
Dr. Cameron has been worrying about you ever since he came home."

"I'm not afraid of the negroes. I don't know one of them who wouldn't go
out of his way to do me a favour. Old Aleck is the only rascal I know
among them, and he's too busy with politics now even to steal a chicken."

"And Gus, the young scamp we used to own; you haven't forgotten him? He is
back here, a member of the company of negro troops, and parades before the
house every day to show off his uniform. Dr. Cameron told him yesterday
he'd thrash him if he caught him hanging around the place again. He
frightened Margaret nearly to death when she went to the barn to feed her
horse."

"I've never known the meaning of fear. We used to roam the woods and
fields together all hours of the day and night: my lover, Marion, and I.
This panic seems absurd to me."

"Well, I'll be glad to get you two children under my wing. I was afraid
I'd find you in tears over moving from your nest."

"No, where Marion is I'm at home, and I'll feel I've a mother when I get
with you."

"Will you come to the hotel before they arrive?"

"No; I'll welcome and tell them how glad I am they have brought me good
luck."

"I'm delighted, Jeannie. I wished you to do this, but I couldn't ask it. I
can never do enough for this old man's daughter. We must make their stay
happy. They say he's a terrible old Radical politician, but I suppose he's
no meaner than the others. He's very ill, and she loves him devotedly. He
is coming here to find health, and not to insult us. Besides, he was kind
to me. He wrote a letter to the President. Nothing that I have will be