“But now we have something to say which is not a request, but practically a command. Next week Miss Parkhurst, a friend of mine and a teacher of unusual ability, is coming to instruct Carin. You are to come daily, Azalea, to share her lessons with her. And that the going and coming may not be too much for you, we are sending a well-trained little horse to you. Its feed and keep shall be, so far as possible, the care of my stable boys, so that my good friend McBirney, who is so willing to take other people’s burdens on him, may not have another one added. But I promise you all, for myself and for Mrs. Carson and Carin, that you shall be thought of, Azalea, as the daughter of this home here on the mountains. And while we shall give you all you will take in the way of schooling and development, we will not do one thing to win you away from the life you have chosen.” “Thank you, sir,” murmured Azalea. She could say no more. “Oh, thank you,” added Ma McBirney, crushing down the tormenting little doubts that would arise in her heart. Could she really keep this scarlet tanager in her wren’s nest? But no doubts troubled the others. Jim sat thinking and thinking. What wonderful things came to Zalie! And he—he was a gawk—a dunce—a silly hill billy! He wondered Azalea paid any attention to him! And yet, somehow, she seemed to think of herself as his sister. Well, then, he’d stick by her, sir, no matter what happened. Till he was an old man with long white whiskers he’d stick by her, and if anyone did her any sort of harm, he’d fix him. He almost leaped to his feet and stood there straight and fierce with his own combat, beside the girl. [Picture: He stood there, straight and fierce] “I forgot to say,” observed Mr. Carson in his slow way, “that there will be two little horses. They were a pair and the man didn’t want to sell them singly. So the second one is for Jim.” “No!” cried Jim, and his voice sounded almost defiant in his excitement. “Yes!” cried Mr. Carson, mocking him. “Shake hands on it.” And he wrung Jim’s hand in his own. Then the boy’s shyness came on him and made him slip away in the darkness. Yet he was on hand to hold the horses when the Carsons were ready to mount. They rode away in the moonlight, with the bewitching world of cloud and shine about them. The trees were transformed into enchanted silver things amid which elves and dryads seemed to hide; the rushing water was a torrent of dancing crystal where the water maidens played. The three who rode away, went singing. But this time it was a song that Azalea did not know. She said so to Ma McBirney with a troubled smile. “What a lovely, lovely song! And I never so much as heard it before.” Ma McBirney kissed her slowly, and said with meaning: “But you see, Zalie, they are going to teach it to you.” Azalea did not answer. She lighted her candle. “’Night, Jim,” she called. “You couldn’t get rid of me, could you?”