Blake stood astraddle on the hearth, her hands behind her back.

"You better go to bed, Sheila," she said; "it's eleven o'clock and
to-morrow's wash-day."

Her voice was pleasant enough, but its bluffness had a new edge. Sheila
found it easy to obey. She climbed up the ladder to the little gabled
loft which was her bedroom. Halfway up she paused to assert a belated
independence of spirit. "Good-night," she said, "how do you like our
neighbor?"

Miss Blake stared up. Her lips were set tight. She made no answer. After
an instant she sauntered across the room and out of the door. The whip
with which she beat the dogs swung in her hand. A moment later a fearful
howling and yelping showed that some culprit had been chosen for condign
punishment.

Sheila set down her candle, sat on the edge of her cot, and covered her
ears with her hands. When it was over she crept into bed. She felt,
though she chided herself for the absurdity, like a naughty child who has
been forcibly reminded of the consequences of rebellion.

CHAPTER VI

A HISTORY AND A LETTER

The next morning, it seemed Miss Blake's humor had completely changed. It
showed something like an apologetic softness. She patted Sheila's
shoulder when she passed the girl at work. When Hilliard next appeared, a
morning visit this time, he was bidden to share their dinner; he was even
smiled upon.

"She's not such a bad old girl, is she?" he admitted when Sheila had been
given a half-holiday and was riding on the black horse beside Hilliard on
his Dusty across one of the mountain meadows.

"_I_ think she's a dear," said Sheila, pink with gratitude; then,
shadowing, "If only she wouldn't beat the dogs and would give up
trapping."

"Why in thunder shouldn't she trap?"

"I loathe trapping. Do you remember how you felt in the pen? It's bad
enough to shoot down splendid wild things for food, but, to trap
them!--small furry things or even big furry things like bears, why, it's
cruel! It's hideously cruel! When a woman does it--"

"Come, now, don't call _her_ a woman!"

"Yes, she is. Think of the aprons! And she is so tidy."

"That's not just a woman's virtue."

"Maybe not. I'm not sure. But I've a feeling that it was Eve who first
discovered dust."

"Very bad job if she did. Think of all the bother we've been going
through ever since."

"There!" Sheila triumphed. "To you it's just bother. You're a man. To me
it's a form of sport.... I wonder what Miss B