hat's
why I hate you," she said, calmly--"fer worryin' him an' bein' so
high-heeled that you was willin' to let him mighty nigh bust his heart
about somethin' that wasn't his fault. I come fer him--you
understand--fer HIM. I hate YOU!"

She turned without another word, walked slowly back down the walk and
through the gate. Margaret stood dazed, helpless, almost frightened.
She heard the girl cough and saw now that she walked as if weak and
ill. As she turned into the road, Margaret ran down the steps and
across the fields to the turnpike. When she reached the road-fence the
girl was coming around the bend her eyes on the ground, and every now
and then she would cough and put her hand to her breast. She looked up
quickly, hearing the noise ahead of her, and stopped as Margaret
climbed the low stone wall and sprang down.

"Melissa, Melissa! You mustn't hate me. You mustn't hate ME."
Margaret's eyes were streaming and her voice trembled with kindness.
She walked up to the girl and put one hand on her shoulder. "You are
sick. I know you are, and you must come back to the house."

Melissa gave way then, and breaking from the girl's clasp she leaned
against the stone wall and sobbed, while Margaret put her arms about
her and waited silently.

"Come now," she said, "let me help you over. There now. You must come
back and get something to eat and lie down." And Margaret led Melissa
back across the fields.

CHAPTER 30.

PEACE

It was strange to Chad that he should be drifting toward a new life
down the river which once before had carried him to a new world. The
future then was no darker than now, but he could hardly connect himself
with the little fellow in coon-skin cap and moccasins who had floated
down on a raft so many years ago, when at every turn of the river his
eager eyes looked for a new and thrilling mystery.

They talked of the long fight, the two lads, for, in spite of the
war-worn look of them, both were still nothing but boys--and they
talked with no bitterness of camp life, night attacks, surprises,
escapes, imprisonment, incidents of march and battle. Both spoke little
of their boyhood days or the future. The pall of defeat overhung Dan.
To him the world seemed to be nearing an end, while to Chad the outlook
was what he had known all his life--nothing to begin with and
everything to be done. Once only Dan voiced his own trouble:

"What are you going to do, Chad--now that this infernal war is over?