"I don't know, Aunt Ray," he said dubiously; "this is hardly a woman's

affair. If there's a scrap of any kind, you hike for the timber."

Which was Halsey's solicitous care for me, put into vernacular.

"I shall stay right here," I said, and crossing the small veranda, now

shaded and fragrant with honeysuckle, I hammered the knocker on the

door.

Thomas opened the door himself--Thomas, fully dressed and in his

customary health. I had the blanket over my arm.

"I brought the blanket, Thomas," I said; "I am sorry you are so ill."

The old man stood staring at me and then at the blanket. His confusion

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under other circumstances would have been ludicrous.

"What! Not ill?" Halsey said from the step. "Thomas, I'm afraid

you've been malingering."

Thomas seemed to have been debating something with himself. Now he

stepped out on the porch and closed the door gently behind him.

"I reckon you bettah come in, Mis' Innes," he said, speaking

cautiously. "It's got so I dunno what to do, and it's boun' to come

out some time er ruther."

He threw the door open then, and I stepped inside, Halsey close behind.

In the sitting-room the old negro turned with quiet dignity to Halsey.

"You bettah sit down, sah," he said. "It's a place for a woman, sah."

Things were not turning out the way Halsey expected. He sat down on

the center-table, with his hands thrust in his pockets, and watched me

as I followed Thomas up the narrow stairs. At the top a woman was

standing, and a second glance showed me it was Rosie.

She shrank back a little, but I said nothing. And then Thomas motioned

to a partly open door, and I went in.

The lodge boasted three bedrooms up-stairs, all comfortably furnished.

In this one, the largest and airiest, a night lamp was burning, and by

its light I could make out a plain white metal bed. A girl was asleep

there--or in a half stupor, for she muttered something now and then.

Rosie had taken her courage in her hands, and coming in had turned up

the light. It was only then that I knew. Fever-flushed, ill as she

was, I recognized Louise Armstrong.

I stood gazing down at her in a stupor of amazement. Louise here,

hiding at the lodge, ill and alone! Rosie came up to the bed and

smoothed the white counterpane.

"I am afraid she is worse to-night," she ventured at last. I put my

hand on the sick girl's forehead. It was burning with fever, and I

turned to where Thomas lingered in the hallway.

"Will you tell me what you mean, Thomas Johnson, by not telling me this

before?" I demanded indignantly.

Thomas quailed.




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