back you spoke of hearing a quail, and of how much pleasure it
gave you. You hoped he would not go away." And he smiled humbly, as he
added: "And you made me promise not to shoot him."

She merely turned her eyes away, over the river, toward the sunset.

"And I thought then that if it gave you so much pleasure, why not keep
on with it? The Lord knows the favors a helpless invalid can bestow are
few enough! And the Lord also knows that I have no accomplishments. I
cannot sing, or play, or recite poetry. At that time I could not even
start a fire or bring in water. In fact, my sole accomplishment was to
imitate a bird. 'Tis a humble gift, but I resolved to make the most of
it."

She stood facing him, about a dozen feet away, a striking figure, with
the light from the setting sun on her white dress, the dark recesses of
the wood for a background. Into her face came no signs of relenting. But
he detected in her eyebrows a slight movement as if to maintain a frown,
and he ventured nearer, slowly, as a dog just punished manoeuvres for
forgiveness. Removing his straw hat he knelt before her, his eyes upon
the ground.

"I confess to a guilty feeling every time I did it. I knew a day of
reckoning would come. But I was postponing it. I am ashamed, really
ashamed; but on my honor my motive was good. Please be merciful."

"Are you serious?--or trying to be funny, and not really caring much
about it?"

"I am serious; very serious."

"Do you realize what a contemptible trick it was--how mean-spirited and
ungrateful?"

Lower still sank his head. "I do."

"And you promise never to deceive me again?"

"I swear it."

"You value my good opinion, I suppose."

"I would rather die than lose it!"

"Well, you have lost it, and forever."

From the bowed head came a groan. At this point Solomon approached the
kneeling figure and placed his nose inquiringly against the criminal's
ear. And the criminal involuntarily shrank from the cold contact. At
this the lady smiled, but unobserved by the kneeling man.

"Are you sincerely and thoroughly ashamed?"

"Yumps."

"What?"

"Yes, oh, yes!"

"I don't like your manner."

"Please like it. I am honest now. I shall always be good."

"You couldn't. It isn't in you."

"There is going to be a mighty effort."

"Get up!"

He obeyed. As their eyes met, he smiled, but with a frown she pointed
toward the cottage. "Turn around and walk humbly with your head down.
You are not to spea