"You shouldn't begin to drink so early in the day, Michael," said Mr. Hamlin, quietly, without withdrawing his black eyes from the man's face. "You can't stand it on an empty stomach. Take my advice and wait till after dinner." CHAPTER III. MRS. MARKLE. Olly's allusion to Mrs. Markle and her criticism had recurred to Gabriel more or less uneasily through the night, and as he rose betimes the next morning and stood by the table on which lay his handiwork, a grim doubt of his proficiency in that branch of domestic economy began to oppress him. "Like as not I ain't doin' my duty to that child," he said softly to himself, as he picked up the garments one by one, and deposited them beside the bedside of the still sleeping Olly. "Them clothes are--leavin' out the strength and sayin' nothin' o' durability as material--a trifle old-fashioned and onbecomin'. Not as you requires anything o' the kind, bless your pooty face," he said, apostrophising the dewy curls and slumber-flushed cheek of the unconscious child; "but mebbe it does sorter provoke remarks from the other children. And the settlement's gettin' crowded. Three new families in six months is rather too--too----" considered Gabriel, hesitating for a word; "rather too popylating! And Mrs. Markle"--Gabriel flushed even in the stillness and solitude of his own cabin--"to think of that little gal, not nine years old, speaking o' that widder in that way. It beats everything. And to think I've kept clar of that sort o' thing jest on Olly's account, jest that she shouldn't have any woman around to boss her." Nevertheless, when he and Olly sat down to their frugal breakfast, he was uneasily conscious of several oddities of her dress, not before noticeable, and even some peculiarities of manner. "Ez a gineral thing, Olly," he pointed out with cautious generalisation, "ez a gineral thing, in perlite society, young gals don't sit down a-straddle of their chairs, and don't reach down every five minnits to heave away at their boot-straps." "As a general thing, Gabe, girls don't wear boots," said Olly, leaning forward to dip her bread in the frying-pan. Artfully evading the question whether high india-rubber boots were an indispensable feature of a girl's clothing, Gabriel continued with easy indifference--"I think I'll drop in on Mrs. Markle on my way to the Gulch this morning." He glanced under his eyelids at as much of his sister's face as was visible behind the slice of bread she was consuming. "Take me with you, Gabe?" "No," said Gabriel, "you must stay here and do up the house; and mind you keep out o' the woods until your work's done. Besides," he added, loftily, "I've got some business with Mrs. Markle." "Oh, Gabe!" said Olly, shining all over her face with gravy and archness. "I'd like to know what's the matter with you, Olly," said Gabriel, with dignified composure. "Ain't you ashamed, Gabe?"