held his hat in her hand, and her eyes were bright in the
firelight. Puss must have thought the two made a handsome couple, for
she lingered, as she started for the kitchen, to look back.

"Puss," exclaimed her mistress, "fry a chicken right away! A big one,
Puss! Mr. McCloud is very hungry, I know. And be quick, do! Oh, how is
the river, Mr. McCloud?"

"Behaving like a lamb. It hasn't fallen much, but the pressure seems
to be off the bank, if you know what that means?"

"You must be a magician! Things changed the minute you came!"

"The last doctor usually gets credit for the cure, you know."

"Oh, I know all about that. Don't you want to freshen up? Should you
mind coming right to my room? Marion is in hers," explained Dicksie,
"and I am never sure of Cousin Lance's,--he has so many boots."

When she had disposed of McCloud she flew to the kitchen. Puss was
starting after a chicken. "Take a lantern, Puss!" whispered Dicksie
vehemently.

"No, indeed; dis nigger don' need no lantern fo' chickens, Miss
Dicksie."

"But get a good one, Puss, and make haste, do! Mr. McCloud must be
starved! Where is the baking powder? I'll get the biscuits started."

Puss turned fiercely. "Now look-a heah, yo' can't make biscuits! Yo'
jes' go se' down wif dat young gen'm'n! Jes' lemme lone, ef yo'
please! Dis ain't de firs' time I killed chickens, Miss Dicksie, an'
made biscuits. Jes' clair out an' se' down! Place f'r young ladies is
in de parlor! Ol' Puss can cook supper f'r one man yet--ef she _has_
to!"

"Oh, yes, Puss, certainly, I know, of course; only, get a nice
chicken!" and with the parting admonition Dicksie, smoothing her hair
wildly, hastened back to the living-room.

But the harm was done. Puss, more excited than her mistress, lost her
head when she got to the chicken-yard, and with sufficiently bad
results. When Dicksie ran out a few moments afterward for a glass of
water for McCloud, Puss was calmly wiping her hands, and in the sink
lay the quivering form of young Caesar. Dicksie caught her favorite up
by the legs and suppressed a cry. There could be no mistake. She cast
a burning look on Puss. It would do no good to storm now. Dicksie only
wrung her hands and returned to McCloud.

He rose in the happiest mood. He could not see what a torment
Dicksie was in, and took the water without asking himself why it
trembled in her hand. Her restrained manner did not worry him, for
he felt that his fight at the river was