ttress, which I have arranged just the other side of
the wall. That is your room. With plenty of blankets you should be
comfortable enough there," he said.

"And you?" she inquired.

"I am on this side of the wall," he replied gravely.

"What are you going to sleep upon?"

"A blanket."

If it had been possible to do so, she would have given him the mattress
and slept upon the ground herself. That is what she would have liked
to do.

"It's no more than I have done in the woods when I could n't make camp
in time," he explained. "I had hoped to take you some day to my cabin
near the lake."

She could think of nothing better than another inane remark:--

"It must be beautiful there."

He looked up.

"It always has been, but now--without you--"

"You must n't let me make any difference," she put in quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because you must n't. You must go on just as if you had never met me."

"Why?" He was as direct as a boy.

"Because that's best. Oh, I know, Monte. You must trust me to know
what is good for you," she cried.

"I don't believe you know even what is good for yourself," he answered.

"I--I know what is right," she faltered.

He saw that he was disturbing her, and he did not want to do that.

"Perhaps in time we'll see," he said. "I have a notion that some day
you and I will get straightened out."

"It does n't make so much difference about me; but you--you must get
back to your schedule again as soon as ever you can."

"Perhaps to a new one; but that must include you."

She could not help the color in her cheeks. It was beyond her control.

"I must make my own little schedule," she insisted.

"You are going back to the farm?"

She nodded.

"To-morrow we shall be in Italy. Then a train to Genoa and the next
boat," she said.

"After that?"

"In a week or so I shall be back where I started."

"Then?"

She laughed nervously.

"I can't think much ahead of that. Perhaps I shall raise chickens."

"Year after year?"

"Maybe."

"If you lived to be seventy you'd have a lot of chickens by then, would
n't you?"

"I--I don't know."

It did sound ridiculous, the way he put it.

"Then--would you will them to some one?" he asked.

He was laughing at her. She was glad to have him do that rather than
remain serious.

"Please don't make me look ahead to seventy," she shuddered.

Monsieur Soucin was hovering about nervously. He wished to have
everything cleared