my assistance, who had misunderstood me, and cruelly
insulted me! Oh, forgive me, Mr. Briggs" (Jeff had risen). "I did not
mean THAT. But, Mr. Jeff--Jeff--oh!" (She had caught his tortured hand
and had wrung a movement of pain from him.) "Oh, dear! what did I do
now? But Mr. Jeff, after what has passed, after what you said to me when
you went away, when you were at that dreadful place, Campville, when you
were two months in Sacramento, you might--YOU OUGHT TO HAVE LET ME KNOW
IT!"

Jeff turned. Her face, more beautiful than he had ever seen it, alive
and eloquent with every thought that her woman's speech but half
expressed, was very near his--so near, that under her honest eyes the
wretched scales fell from his own, his self-wrought shackles crumbled
away, and he dropped upon his knees at her feet as she sank into the
chair he had quitted. Both his hands were grasped in her own.

"YOU went away, and I STAYED," she said reflectively.

"I had no home, Miss Mayfield."

"Nor had I. I had to buy this," she said, with a delicious simplicity;
"and bring a family here too," she added, "in case YOU"--she stopped,
with a slight color.

"Forgive me," said Jeff, burying his face in her hands.

"Jeff."

"Jessie."

"Don't you think you were a LITTLE--just a little--mean?"

"Yes."

Miss Mayfield uttered a faint sigh. He looked into her anxious cheeks
and eyes, his arm stole round her; their lips met for the first time in
one long lingering kiss. Then, I fear, for the second time.

"Jeff," said Miss Mayfield, suddenly becoming practical and sweetly
possessory, "you must have your hands bound up in cotton."

"Yes," said Jeff cheerfully.

"And you must go instantly to bed."

Jeff stared.

"Because my sister will think it very late for me to be sitting up with
a gentleman."

The idea that Miss Mayfield was responsible to anybody was something new
to Jeff. But he said hastily, "I must stay and wait for Bill. He risked
his life for me."

"Oh, yes! You must tell me all about it. I may wait for THAT!"

Jeff possessed himself of the chair; in some way he also possessed
himself of Miss Mayfield without entirely dispossessing her. Then he
told his story. He hesitated over the episode of the blacksmith. "I'm
afraid I killed him, Jessie."

Miss Mayfield betrayed little concern at this possible extreme measure
with a dangerous neighbor. "He cut your head, Jeff," she said, passing
her little hand through his curls.

"No,