ck I cal'late it's all over.
He acted dreadful worried for a spell, but for the week afore he was
married he seemed chipper as ever. Biggest change in him you ever see,'
says I. 'So my tellin' you is all right, I guess,' I says. 'I'm sure
it's all right,' says she, and her face kind of lighted up, as you might
say. When she looked at me that way I'd have given her my house and lot,
if she'd wanted 'em, though you needn't tell my old woman that I said
so. He! he! 'Of course it's all right,' she says. 'But you had better
not tell anyone else. We'll have it for our secret, won't we, Mr.
Cahoon?' she says, smilin'. 'Sartin we will,' says I. And--well, by
thunder!" as if the thought occurred to him for the first time. "I said
that, and now I've been and blatted out the whole business to you! I am
the DARNDEST fool!"

I did not contradict him. I was too angry and disturbed even to speak to
him for the moment. And, before I could speak, we were interrupted. The
young lady herself appeared in the doorway. SHE had not slept, that was
plain. Her face was pale and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes.
As I looked at her I was more ashamed of my own unpremeditated nap than
ever. Yet she was, as the doctor had said, calm and uncomplaining. She
even smiled as she greeted us.

"Good morning," she said. "Your breakfast is ready, Mr. Cahoon. I know
you feel that you must be getting back to your work at the station."

Phineas pulled out an enormous nickel watch and glanced at it.

"Land sakes! most six, ain't it," he exclaimed. "I guess you're right.
I'll have to be trottin' along. But you needn't fuss for no breakfast
for me. I'm used to missin' a meal's vittles now and again and I et
enough last night to last me one spell."

He was hurrying from the room, but she would not let him go.

"There has been no 'fuss' whatever, Mr. Cahoon," she said. "Breakfast is
ready, here in the library. And yours is ready, too, Mr. Paine. I hope
your few minutes' sleep has rested you. I am sorry you woke so soon. I
told Johnson to be careful and not disturb you."

"I deserve to be shot for sleeping at all," I declared, in self
reproach. "I did not mean to. I lay down for a moment and--well, I
suppose I was rather tired."

"I know. Last night's experience was enough to tire anyone."

"Nonsense! It was no worse for me than for you," I said.

"Yes, it was. You had the care and the responsibility. I, you see, knew
that I was well guarded. Besi