As these thoughts floated past him, he saw the young squatter wither under a giggle from a girl in the corner.
"Look at her feet," were the words that changed Tessibel's frankness to embarrassment, her eager pathos to wofulness.
Tessibel shrank close to the door, for the first time realizing how out of place she was.
"I were--I were--a fool to come, but--but--"
The earnestness of the vibrant voice, the proud, appealing young face moved Frederick to pity and self-reproach.
"It was right--you should have come," said he, gently taking her hands, "and no one dare question your privilege to ask a prayer for your father."
Still retaining her fingers in his, he turned, explaining: "This is Miss Skinner whose father is suffering now from a stroke of the law. We, who have fathers and mothers whom we love, must wish her well."
Tessibel sank down, down, among her boots and rags, his words reducing her to tears. Teola came to her brother's side. She had never before been actually in the presence of a squatter, for, when they had brought fish and berries to the back door, her mother had always ordered the children to the front of the house; but now, filled with sympathy she stooped down and placed her hand upon Tessibel's head. The touch was so gentle that the fishermaid lifted her eyes to see who sorrowed with her.
The squatter covered the white fingers with tears and kisses. Then she struggled to her feet, the nails in Daddy's boots scraping the polished floor, making long white marks. To Tessibel there were no other persons in the room save Frederick and his beautiful sister. She made a queer upward movement with her head, wiping the tears away with the tattered sleeve.
"I was afeared ye'd forget Daddy Skinner," she murmured. "The big man from the hill said like you did. And I says it air prayin' time and I comed."
She had forgotten the tears of a few minutes before, forgotten that twenty pairs of searching youthful eyes watched her every movement and mentally criticized her, from the masses of long hair to the rock-torn boots on her feet. She only remembered the student--that he was smiling into her eyes, and that, his sister, too, Teola Graves, had sympathized with her.
With a radiant, grateful smile, she turned to go, the door opening under her eager grasp. It was here that Dan Jordan spoke: "Won't Miss Skinner have some coffee?"
Tessibel looked at him with an incredulous glance. He, too, had come forward and stood with his kindly gray eyes fixed upon her face.