ing. Now, when John and I were first en--"

"Yes, yes, dear. I know what you're going to say," interrupted the girl,
smiling in spite of the dull aching at her heart. She knew how this
sweet old lady lived in the past, and she also knew how, to a
sympathetic ear, she loved to pour out the delights of memory from a
heart overflowing with a strong affection for the man of her choice.
Jacky had come here to talk of other matters, and she knew that when
"Aunt" Margaret liked she could be very shrewd and practical.

Something in the half-wistful smile of her companion brought the old
lady quickly back from the realms of recollection, and a pair of keen,
kindly eyes met the steady gray-black orbs of the girl.

"Ah, Jacky, my child, we of the frivolous sex are always being forced
into considering the mundane matters of everyday life here at Foss
River. What is it, dear? I can see by your face that you are worrying
over something."

The girl threw herself into an easy chair, drawn up to the glowing stove
with careful forethought by the old lady. Mrs. Abbot reseated herself in
the straight-backed chair she usually affected. She carefully put her
book on one side and took up some darning, assiduously inserting the
needle but without further attempt at work. It was something to fix her
attention on whilst talking. Old Mrs. Abbot always liked to be able to
occupy her hands when talking seriously. And Jacky's face told her that
this was a moment for serious conversation.

"Where's the Doc?" the girl asked without preamble. She knew, of course,
but she used the question by way of making a beginning.

The old lady imperceptibly straightened her back. She now anticipated
the reason of her companion's coming. She glanced over the top of a pair
of gold _pince-nez_, which she had just settled comfortably upon the
bridge of her pretty, broad nose.

"He's down at the saloon playing poker. Why, dear?"

Her question was so innocent, but Jacky was not for a moment deceived by
its tone. The girl smiled plaintively into the fire. There was no
necessity for her to disguise her feelings before "Aunt" Margaret, she
knew. But her loyal nature shrank from flaunting her uncle's weaknesses
before even this kindly soul. She kept her fencing attitude a little
longer, however.

"Who is he playing with?" Jacky raised a pair of inquiring gray eyes to
her companion's face.

"Your uncle and--Lablache."

The shrewd old eyes watched the girl's face