me slowly back to the ashy cheeks, and the light into
the dark-blue eyes.

"If I can only go right with myself, I shall not fail. I need time,
that's all. There will be a letter from Eugene waiting when I get back
to town, and that will make up for a lot. There must be some way out of
all the mistakes, too. It wasn't my land that I saw. Mr. Ponk must have
directed me wrongly. That country fellow may not know the facts. I'll go
back and ask York Macpherson right away. Only, he's gone out of town for
two days. Oh dear!"

She wrung her hands as the picture of that oak-grove and all that lay
beyond it came vividly before her. She tried to forget it and for a
moment she smiled to herself deceivingly, and then--the smile was gone
and by the determined set of her lips Jerry was her father's own
resolute child again.

"I don't exactly know what next, except that I'm hungry. Why, it is five
o'clock! Where has this day gone, and where am I, anyhow?"

Her eyes fell on the broad ruts across the road. Then back in the bushes
she caught a glimpse of a low roof.

"I smell fish frying. I'll starve to death if I wait to get back to the
Commercial Hotel!" Jerry exclaimed. "Here's the wayside inn where I find
comfort for man and beast."

She called sharply with her horn. In a minute the fuzzy brown fisherman
came shuffling along the narrow path through the bushes.

"I'm dreadfully hungry," Jerry said, bluntly.

It did not occur to her to explain to this creature why she happened to
be here and hungry at this time. She wanted something; that was
sufficient.

"Can't you let me have some of your fish? I am desperate," she went on,
smiling at the surprised face of the man who stared up at her in
silence.

"Yes'm, I can give you what I eat. Just a minute," he squeaked out, at
last. Then he shuffled back to where the bit of roof showed through the
leaves.

While the girl waited a tall, slender woman came around the brushy bend
ahead. She halted in the middle of the road and stared a moment at
Jerry; then she came forward rapidly and passed the car without looking
up. She wore a plain, grayish-green dress, with a sunbonnet of the same
hue covering her face--all very much like the bushes out of which she
seemed to have come and into which she seemed to melt again. In her hand
she carried a big parcel lightly, as if its weight was slight. As Jerry
turned and looked after her with a passing curiosity, she saw that the
woman was looki