nt went back into his lonely house and sat down before the
dulling fire to think it out about Thornly.

"He'll never go to any one but me, after he's seen Katharine," he
thought. "He may not come to me. It all depends upon how deep the thing
has gone, but, in case he needs any one, I'd better be on hand. I may
serve as a buffer, and that's better than not serving at all."

CHAPTER X

Janet had conquered the art of crocheting in order that she might
construct a Tam o' Shanter cap. It had been a difficult task, and the
result was far from satisfying. Dropped stitches and uneven rows were in
evidence all over the creation of dark red, with its bushy little knot
on top. But Janet had an eye for the impressionistic touch, and as she
glanced in the mirror of Susan Jane's bureau, the general effect was
gratifying. Under the dull red the splendid, dusky gold of the girl's
hair shone exquisitely. Janet had trained the rebellious locks at last
to an upward tendency and the mass was knotted loosely beneath the
artistic headgear. The eye for color had never been lacking in this girl
of the dunes. Nature had taught her true, but Thornly had, later,
assisted Nature; and no French modiste could more accurately have chosen
the shade of reddish brown to suit the complexion than had Janet
selected, from the village store, her coarse flannel for blouse and
skirt. The skirt was long now, and the heavy shoes were worn
religiously through heat and cold. There was to be no more absolute
freedom for Janet of the Dunes.

David had come down from his Light, heavy eyed and weary. Mark Tapkins's
absence caused extra duty for David, but the man would ask for no other
helper; it would seem like disloyalty to Mark. Janet took a turn now and
again to relieve David, and that helped considerably. The girl had borne
her share the previous night, but her face showed no trace of the vigil.

"Sprucin'?" Davy paused. Tired as he was, the girl's beauty caught and
held him.

"Some. I've set your breakfast out on the table, Davy, and the coffee is
on the stove."

"Yer gettin' t' be a master hand at cookin', Janet. I don't b'lieve Pa
Tapkins can beat yer coffee. Expectin' Mark back?" There was a double
interest in this question.

"I haven't heard a word, Davy."

"Goin' visitin'?"

"No, Davy; nobody seems to want me to come visiting. The summer's doings
have sort of rent Quinton asunder, and in some way I've managed to fall
in the crack. I do