onstruction, and we have
to argue it out to a finish."

"Have you had any disagreement to-day?" Tilly was probing him
desperately, knowing well that the subject had naught to do with the
weight on her breast and his.

"Oh no, not to-day," he said, lightly. "Don't be alarmed. Sam and I work
all right together. He's always talking about me and him going into
partnership. He wants to tie me here, you see; but I don't know. The
world is wide, and I could make a living anywhere."

They finished their supper and went to sit on the porch, where the air
circulated better than in the house. "I had a caller to-day," she
suddenly announced.

"What, a--a-- You say you had a--" He broke off, and then finished in a
breath of seeming relief. "Oh, Mrs. Cavanaugh! Sam said she would soon
be up; but from what he said I thought she'd be in bed for another week
at least."

"It wasn't Mrs. Cavanaugh." Tilly's hand was in his and she felt his
calloused fingers twitch and remain tense while he waited for her to
finish. "It was the little girl from your house."

His fingers shook. He stared at her through the twilight. She saw his
lips move as if for utterance, but no sound came forth. It was an
awkward moment for them both.

"Oh, so she came!" John finally got out. "I thought she was too backward
to--to go anywhere."

"She was timid at first," Tilly said, choking down the despair that
seemed to rise in her throat like a fluid; "but I gave her some cake and
made her feel at home the best I could."

There was another turgid pause. John managed to break it, inexpert
though he was in the verbal finesse he was evidently trying to use.

"She is a queer little imp," he said. "Don't you think so?"

"Yes, very, very strange, for a child of her age. I think she liked me
pretty well, and--and I did her. She ought to be taught. Can she read or
write? I didn't think to ask her."

"She doesn't know B from a bull's track." John tried to smile, as he
forced a laugh. "Yes, she ought to be taught, I guess." He was silent
for a moment, and then he resumed: "What did she have to say? She can
talk a regular blue streak at times, and I am wondering--wondering--"

"She told me all about the doll and doll-things you sent her," Tilly
answered, resorting to subterfuge with no little skill. "Let a child
like that start to talk about her playthings and she will run on all
day. She didn't stay very long. She said she had work to do at home."

From the s