Nella-Rose, you ought not to come here--alone!"

"Why? Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Of course. But why did you come?" This was risky. Truedale recognized
it at once.

"Just to say--'how-de'! You certainly do look scroogy."

At this Truedale laughed. Nella-Rose's capacity for bringing forth his
happier, merrier nature was one of her endearing charms.

"You didn't come just for that, Nella-Rose!" This with stern
disapproval.

"Take off the scroogy face--then I'll tell you why I came."

"Very well!" Truedale smiled weakly. "Why?"

"I'm right hungry. I--I want a party."

Of course this would never do. White, or one of the blood-and-thunder
raiders, might appear.

"You must go, Nella-Rose."

"Not"--here she sat down firmly and undid her ridiculous plaid
shawl--"not till you give me a bite. Just a mighty little bite--I'm
starving!"

At this Truedale roared with laughter and went hurriedly to his closet.
The girl must eat and--_go_. Mechanically he set about placing food upon
the table. Then he sat opposite Nella-Rose while she ate with frank
enjoyment the remains of his own noon-day meal. He could not but note,
as he often did, the daintiness with which she accomplished the task.
Other women, as Truedale remembered, were not prepossessing when
attacking food; but this girl made a gracious little ceremony of the
affair. She placed the small dishes in orderly array before her; she
poised herself lightly on the edge of the chair and nibbled--there was
no other word for it--as a perky little chipmunk might, the morsels she
raised gracefully to her mouth. She was genuinely hungry and for a few
minutes devoted her attention to the matter in hand.

Then, suddenly, Nella-Rose did something that shattered the last scrap
of self-control that was associated with the trusty Kendall and his good
example. She raised a bit of food on her fork and held it out to
Truedale, her lovely eyes looking wistfully into his.

"Please! I feel so ornery eating alone. I want to--share! Please play
party with me!"

Truedale tried to say "I had my dinner an hour ago"; instead, he leaned
across his folded arms and murmured, as if quite outside his own
volition:

"I--I love you!"

Nella-Rose dropped the fork and leaned back. Her lids fell over the wide
eyes--the smile faded from her lips.

"Do you belong to any one--else, Nella-Rose?"

"No--oh! no." This like a frightened cry.

"But others--some one must have told you--of love. Do