estern girl like Bessy.

"That's your bad luck," said the doctor. "You think her coarse and
illiterate?"

Mr. North had been so much struck with her kindness that really he had
not thought of it.

"That's not so," said the doctor, curtly; "although even if you told
her so she would not think any the less of you--nor of herself. If she
spoke rustic Greek instead of bad English, and wore a cestus in place
of an ill-fitting corset, you'd swear she was a goddess. There's your
trail. Good night."

III

James North did not sleep well that night. He had taken Miss Bessy's
bedroom, at her suggestion, there being but two, and "Dad never using
sheets and not bein' keerful in his habits." It was neat, but that was
all. The scant ornamentation was atrocious; two or three highly
colored prints, a shell work-box, a ghastly winter bouquet of skeleton
leaves and mosses, a star-fish, and two china vases hideous enough to
have been worshiped as Buddhist idols, exhibited the gentle recreation
of the fair occupant, and the possible future education of the child.
In the morning he was met by Joe, who received the message of his
daughter with his usual dejection, and suggested that North stay with
him until the child was better. That event was still remote; North
found, on his return to his cabin, that the child had been worse; but
he did not know, until Miss Bessy dropped a casual remark, that she had
not closed her own eyes that night. It was a week before he regained
his own quarters, but an active week--indeed, on the whole, a rather
pleasant week. For there was a delicate flattery in being domineered
by a wholesome and handsome woman, and Mr. James North had by this time
made up his mind that she was both. Once or twice he found himself
contemplating her splendid figure with a recollection of the doctor's
compliment, and later, emulating her own frankness, told her of it.

"And what did YOU say?" she asked.

"Oh, I laughed and said--nothing."

And so did she.

A month after this interchange of frankness, she asked him if he could
spend the next evening at her house. "You see," she said, "there's to
be a dance down at the hall at Eureka, and I haven't kicked a fut since
last spring. Hank Fisher's comin' up to take me over, and I'm goin' to
let the shanty slide for the night."

"But what's to become of the baby?" asked North, a little testily.

"Well," said Miss Robinson, facing him somewhat aggressively, "I r