f the way.

The squire and Mr. Calhoun sauntered down the street. "I'll not deny,"
said the old man, meditatively, "that Cabarreux has no Northern 'go' in
him. But Dave's a good-natured fellow. He fought like the devil thar in
the Wilderness, and him but sixteen!"

"Yes, and has done nothing since but think of it. Oh, I've no objections
to Carbarreux except that he's of no account: he'll never earn his
bread. I can't see my girl starve."

"They'd be a fine-looking couple," persisted the squire, whose heart
leaned toward the young people. "Dave stands a good chance for the
jedge's property, too. We'll know to-night: the will's to be read this
afternoon."

Mr. Calhoun stopped: "I'll acknowledge, squire, that would make a
difference--that would undoubtedly make a difference. I'm a practical
man. Cabarreux with a steady income would be a dead weight which Bel
might manage to shove along through the world; but Cabarreux with
nothing is a millstone which would grind her to powder. I'd made up my
mind to send her away next week. But if you think--"

"Stay in town until we hear. The will's to be read to-night. Come and
dine with me: the madam has corned beef and succotash to-day."

* * * * *

Isabel drove briskly along the mountain-road. When she came to the forks
she stopped and hesitated: either way would take her home--one in half
an hour, the other after a long circuit among the hills. She turned the
mule's head into the longer road, a red flush rising suddenly on her
delicate neck and face. For an hour the narrow path climbed the
mountain-side, then dipped abruptly into the valley. Isabel looked
eagerly down the gorge; her breath came quickly; she began to sing
softly to herself. Yet there was nothing in sight but a little clearing
in the vast stretch of sombre, uninhabited forest, a vacant log house, a
half-built barn.

This was the place which Dave Cabarreux's father had given him years
ago, and which she had heard he was going to work next spring. He would
be drudging here while she was in the North, thinking of her as he
ploughed: she knew that. But she would be gone for ever. It would be all
over then. Isabel stopped the mule, and sat with her hands clasped on
her knees, looking at the meadow and the desolate closed house. It was
nobly done in David to give himself up to hard work. Her heart beat as
high with pride as if he had been the first man who ever undertook at a
late da