shing forth, she clutched the curtains
and forced herself to stand still, whispering to herself the while, "Oh,
he will die sure! He will die sure!" But when she looked upon him seated
comfortably in the kitchen with a steaming glass of ginger and whiskey,
her mother's unfailing remedy for "anything wrong with the insides," she
knew he would not die and her joy overflowed in boisterous welcome.

For five days they all, from Haley to Tim, gave him of their very best,
seeking to hold him among them for the winter, for they had learned that
his mind was set upon the West, till Cameron was ashamed, knowing that
he must go.

The last afternoon they all spent in the orchard. The Gravensteins, in
which species of apple Haley was a specialist, were being picked, and
picked with the greatest care, Cameron plucking them from the limbs and
dropping them into a basket held by Mandy below. It was one of those
sunny days when, after weeks of chilly absence, summer comes again and
makes the world glow with warmth and kindly life and quickens in the
heart the blood's flow. Cameron was full of talk and fuller of laughter
than his wont; indeed he was vexed to find himself struggling to
maintain unbroken the flow of laughter and of talk. But in Mandy there
was neither speech nor laughter, only a quiet dignity that disturbed and
rebuked him.

The last tree of Gravensteins was picked and then there came the time
of parting. Cameron, with a man's selfish desire for some token of a
woman's adoration, even although he well knew that he could make no
return, lingered in the farewell, hoping for some sign in the plain
quiet face and the wonderful eyes with their new mystery that when
he had gone he would not be forgotten; but though the lips quivered
pitifully and the heavy face grew drawn and old and the eyes glowed
with a deeper fire, the words, when they came, came quietly and the eyes
looked steadily upon him, except that for one brief moment a fire leaped
in them and quickly died down. But when the buggy, with Tim driving,
had passed down the lane, behind the curtain of the spare room the
girl stood looking through the crack beside the blind, with both
hands pressed upon her bosom, her breath coming in sobs, her blue lips
murmuring brokenly, "Good-by, good-by! Oh, why did you come at all? But,
oh, I'm glad you came! God help me, I'm glad you came!" Then, when the
buggy had turned down the side lane and out of sight, she knelt beside
the