face again. Tears were on her lashes, her lips were loose and
trembling.

"If you'd be good to me, Joe; if you'd only be good and kind, I could
stay," she said.

Joe was moved to tenderness by her ingenuous sounding plea. He put his
hand on her shoulder in a comforting way. She was very near him then,
and her small hand, so lately cold and tear-damp, was warm within his.
She threw her head back in expectant attitude; her yearning eyes seemed
to be dragging him to her lips.

"I will be good to you, Ollie; just as good and kind as I know how to
be," he promised.

She swayed a little nearer; her warm, soft body pressed against him, her
bright young eyes still striving to draw him down to her lips.

"Oh, Joe, Joe," she murmured in a snuggling, contented way.

Sweat sprang upon his forehead and his throbbing temples, so calm and
cool but a moment before. He stood trembling, his damp elf-locks
dangling over his brow. Through the half-open door a little breath of
wind threaded in and made the lamp-blaze jump; it rustled outside
through the lilac-bushes like the passing of a lady's gown.

Joe's voice was husky in his throat when he spoke.

"You'd better go to bed, Ollie," said he.

He still clung foolishly to her willing hand as he led her to the door
opening to the stairs.

"No, you go on up first, Joe," she said. "I want to put the wood in the
stove ready to light in the morning, and set a few little things out.
It'll give me a minute longer to sleep. You can trust me now, Joe," she
protested, looking earnestly into his eyes, "for I'm not going away with
Morgan now."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Ollie," he told her, unfeigned pleasure
in his voice.

"I want you to promise me you'll never tell Isom," said she.

"I never intended to tell him," he replied.

She withdrew her hand from his quickly, and quickly both of them fled to
his shoulders.

"Stoop down," she coaxed with a seductive, tender pressure of her hands,
"and tell me, Joe."

Isom's step fell on the porch. He crashed the door back against the wall
as he came in, and Joe and Ollie fell apart in guilty haste. Isom stood
for a moment on the threshold, amazement in his staring eyes and open
mouth. Then a cloud of rage swept him, he lifted his huge, hairy fist
above his head like a club.

"I'll kill you!" he threatened, covering the space between him and Joe
in two long strides.

Ollie shrank away, half stooping, from the expected blow, her han