ved you, ashamed that I took my life from your
hands.... I wish I were--dead! I wish I were dead!"

Teola gasped in her new understanding. The squatter and her handsome
brother loved each other! Never for one moment had it dawned upon her,
until she saw the tall boy drop beside the stool and sob out his heart
agony upon the open Bible.

If she dared speak the truth, she could assure him of the goodness of
the fisher-girl. But her lips sealed themselves with her soul's consent.
She raised her face, giving Tess one look of terror. Reaching out, she
touched her brother's arm.

"Frederick, come home with me. This is awful--awful!"

"I don't want to go home," sobbed the boy, in pitiful abandon. "I didn't
know anything could be so hard to bear. And I loved her faith and her
character--and her beautiful face.... Oh, I love her, I love her,
Teola!"

The squatter listened to every passionate word, listened until her face
whitened into a despair that settled there and did not vanish. She had
not moved from the wooden box, nor ceased pressing the half-clad infant
to her breast. Turning, she shot a soul-cutting glance at the other
girl, who owed her very life to her. The glance pleaded for the
miserable boy by the stool, for the sick babe held close to her heart,
and lastly, for herself, her squatter honor, and the powerful love she
had for the student brother. From the depths of her eyes came a demand
to Teola that she tell the truth. The answer was but a slight negative
shake of the proudly-set head, followed by an embarrassment that Teola
covered by leaning over her brother, and raising him from the floor.
Frederick allowed his sister to lead him by the wooden box, past
Tessibel to the door. His eyes traveled back to the open Bible upon the
stool, where but a moment since his own dark head had rested. Then he
laughed--laughed until the sharp sting of his tones made the fisher-girl
grunt in her characteristic way.

Striding forward, he snatched up the book, tore off the covers, and in
another minute had thrust it through the smoke into the stove.

"There goes your faith--your canting trash about your love for the
Saviour! I might have known that one of your kind could not rise above
the grossness in you. I hope you will be as miserable and as unhappy as
I am.... I hope that child will...."

Tess stopped him with a cry. She stooped down, and placed the little Dan
in his bed without a word. Her anger was gone, and from the