"Judith's her own mistress. She can use her ruthers," returned Jephthah briefly, "but I misdoubt that you'll be greatly troubled with her company." "Help me git my things out of the cupboard thar, Jude, won't ye?" asked Blatch civilly enough. Without reply, without glancing at him, Judith preceded him into the fore-room, opened the doors and sought out his clean clothing, making it into a neat pile on the table. "You come over and see me sometimes, won't ye, Judy?" whispered the tall man as he bundled these up. "I won't tell who I seen you with." Judith looked at him with wordless contempt. Her own pain was so great that even anger was swallowed up in it. "Tell anybody you're a mind to," she said listlessly. "I ain't a-carin'." "I may git word of him, Jude," persisted Blatch as he was departing. "Ef I do would you wish to hear it? Ef you say yes, I'll send ye notice." Again she glanced at him with that negligent disdain. What could he do to her now who had lost all? She was beyond the reach of his love or his malice. Chapter XX A Conversion And now Judith's days strung themselves on the glowing thread of midsummer weather like black beads on a golden cord, a rosary of pain. She told each bead with sighs, facing the morning with a heavy heart that longed for darkness, lying down when day was over in dread of the night and a weariness that brought no sleep. And the cedar tree, swayed in the raw autumn air, talking to itself sombrely of the empty nest in its heart, sounded upon her wakeful ears a note of desolation and despair. For all the Turkey Tracks soon knew that Blatch Turrentine was sound and whole; all Hepzibah knew it eventually--and Creed Bonbright neither returned nor made any sign. The embargo being removed, Judith went straight to Nancy Card. In the preoccupation of her sorrow, she might have forgotten Little Buck's wounded heart; but when as of custom Beezy came rioting out to meet her, the man child hung back with so strange a countenance that she needs must note it. "Come here, honey," she urged tenderly--her own suffering made her very pitiful to the childish grief. Little Buck came slowly up to his idol, lifting doubtful eyes to her face. The girl's ready arm went swiftly round the small figure. "Are you pestered about that word I sent Creed Bonbright by you?" she whispered. The little boy nodded solemnly, and you could see the choke in his throat. "Well, you don't need to be," she reassured him. "I had to send jest that word, Little Buck--jest that very word; nothin' less would 'a' brought him." Again the child nodded, twisting around to look in her face, his own countenance clearing a bit. "But it don't make any differ between you an' me, does it, honey?" she pursued. "You're Jude's man, jest the same as you ever was, ain't ye? You wouldn't never need to be jealous of anybody; 'cause you know all the time that Judy loves you."