"Honey," he said, just as he had often spoken to her when she had been a little child, "Louisianny, honey, no! No, never! I never hed a thought agin ye, not in my bottermost heart. Did ye think it? Lord, no! Thar aint nothin' ye've never done in yer life that was meant to hurt or go agin me. Ye never did go agin me. Ye aint like me, honey; ye're kinder finer. Ye was borned so. I seed it when ye was in yer cradle. I've said it to Ianthy (an' sence ye're growed up I've said it more). Thar's things ye'd oughter hev thet's diff'rent from what most of us wants--it's through you a-bein' so much finer. Ye mustn't be so tender-hearted, honey, ye mustn't." She clung more closely to him and cried afresh, though more softly. "Nothing shall take me away from you," she said, "ever again. I went away once, and it would have been better if I had stayed at home. The people did not want me. They meant to be good to me, and they liked me, but--they hurt me without knowing it, and it would have been better if I had stayed here. _You_ don't make me feel ashamed, and sad, and bitter. _You_ love me just as I am, and you would love me if I knew even less, and was more simple. Let me stay with you! Let us stay together always--always--always!" He let her cry her fill, holding her pretty head tenderly and soothing her as best he could. Somehow he looked a little brighter himself, and not quite so pale as he had done when she found him sitting alone trying to do the new house "jestice." When at length they went in to supper it was almost dusk, and he had his arm still around her. He did not let her go until they sat down at the table, and then she brought her chair quite close to his, and while he ate looked at him often with her soft, wet eyes. CHAPTER XIV. CONFESSIONS. They had a long, quiet evening together afterward. They sat before the fire, and Louisiana drew her low seat near him so that she could rest her head upon his knee. "It's almost like old times," she said. "Let us pretend I never went away and that everything is as it used to be." "Would ye like it to be thataway, Louisianny?" he asked. She was going to say "Yes," but she remembered the changes he had made to please her, and she turned her face and kissed the hand her cheek rested against. "You mustn't fancy I don't think the new house is beautiful," she said. "It isn't that I mean. What I would like to bring back is--is the feeling I used to have. That is all--nothing but the old feeling. And people can't always have the same feelings, can they? Things change so as we get older." He looked at the crackling fire very hard for a minute.