here when your cousin returns you
must be quick about getting away. I am going for her now."

Without another word, or look in her direction he left the room.

A short time later Bee was sitting on the door-step of the cabin trying
to get relief from the fetid air of the interior when she heard
foot-steps hurrying along the path through the woods which led to the
dwelling. Soon someone called:

"Beatrice!"

"Father!" she cried joyfully, starting to her feet.

"I am coming to you." Doctor Raymond's tall figure entered the clearing
in which the cabin stood. A sudden thought came to the girl. If he
entered the house he might get the dreadful disease. Quick as a flash
she darted inside, and closed and locked the door just as he reached the
step.

"Beatrice, what does this mean?" asked her father trying the door.

"Father," called Bee, "you must go away. You can't come in. Rachel has
the small pox, and if you come in you may get it."

"I do not fear, my daughter. I have come to take you home."

"I can not go, father. Rachel is all alone, and she seems to be awfully
sick."

"Isn't Tillie there?"

"No. There is no one here but me."

"Have you been there all afternoon alone with Rachel?"

"Yes," returned Bee simply.

"Child, you must not stay there alone. Let me watch with you."

"Father, please go away," pleaded Bee. "I don't mind being alone; at
least not now," she added honestly. "It would break my heart if you
should have the small pox."

"Think of yourself, my daughter. You may have it, too."

"It is too late to think of that, father. There is no need for you to
run such a risk. I don't want you to do it."

"Beatrice, this is nonsense!" exclaimed her father sharply. "I won't
have you there alone, open the door instantly!"

"Dear, dear father, please go away. Do not ask me to let you in, for I
will not," said the girl pleadingly, steeling her heart against the
solicitude in his voice which, despite his gruffness, was plainly
evident.

"Hello!" called the bluff, cheery accents of a man from somewhere
without. "What are you doing here, sir? Don't you know that there is
small pox in this cabin?"

Chapter XXIV

"You are a Noble Little Girl"

"We live in deeds, not years, in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best."

--_Philip James Bailey._

"I