pale:
"Are you in your right mind, Caleb Kimball?"

"I am, but I don't wonder at your askin'," said the man humbly. "I've
kind o' fancied you for years; but you've always been way down there
across the fields, out o' reach!"

"I'm too amazed to think it out," faltered Amanda.

"Don't you think it out, for God's sake, or you'll never do it!" He
caught at her hand as if it had been a life-line--her kind, smooth
hand, the helpful hand with the bit of white cambric bound round a
finger burned in his service.

"It was the kitchen that put the courage into me," he went on
feverishly. "I laid here an' thought: 'If she can make a house look so
different in a week, what could she do with a man?'"

"I ain't afraid but I could," stammered Amanda; "if the man would
help--not hinder."

"Just try me, Amanda. I wouldn't need a year--honest, I wouldn't--I
could show you in three months!"

Caleb's strength was waning now. His head dropped forward and Amanda
caught it on her breast. She put one arm round his shoulders to keep
him from falling back, while her other hand supported his head. His
cheek was wet and as she felt the tears on her palm, mutely calling to
her strength, all the woman in her gathered itself together and rushed
to meet the man's need.

"If only ... you could take me ... now ... right off," he faltered;
"before anything happens ... to prevent? I'd be good to you ... till
the day I die!"

"I ain't afraid to risk it, Caleb," said Amanda. "I'll take you now
when you need me the most. We'll just put our two forlorn houses
together an' see if we can make 'em into a home!"

Caleb gave one choking sob of content and gratitude. His hand relaxed
its clasp of Amanda's; his head dropped and he fainted.

William Benson came in just then.

"What's the matter?" he cried, coming quickly toward the bed. "Has he
had a spell? He was so much better last night I expected to see him
settin' up!"

"He'll come to in a minute," said Amanda. "Give me the palm-leaf fan.
We're goin' to be married in a day or so, an' he got kind of excited
talkin' it over."

"Moses in the bulrushes!" ejaculated William Benson, sitting down
heavily in the nearest chair.

William Benson was not a sentimental or imaginative person, and he
confessed he couldn't make head nor tail out o' the affair; said it
was the queerest an' beatin'est weddin' that ever took place in Bonny
Eagle; didn't know when they fixed it up, nor how, nor why, if you
com