"I wonder who it is," she said, and lay back upon her pillow, feeling tired out and bewildered between the bird's shrill song and the strange voice. And then she heard heavy feet on the stairs and listened to them nervously until they reached her door and the door was pushed open unceremoniously. The negro woman Nancy thrust her head into the room. "Miss Louisianny, honey," she said. "Ye aint up yet?" "No." "Ye'd better _git_ up, honey--an' come down stairs." But the girl made no movement. "Why?" she asked, listlessly. "Yer pappy, honey--he's sorter cur'us. He don't seem to be right well. He didn't seem to be quite at hisself when I went to light his fire. He----" Louisiana sat upright in bed, her great coil of black hair tumbling over one shoulder and making her look even paler than she was. "Father!" she said. "He was quite well late last night. It was after midnight when we went to bed, and he was well then." The woman began to fumble uneasily at the latch. "Don't ye git skeered, chile," she said. "Mebbe 'taint nothin'--but seemed to me like--like he didn't know me." Louisiana was out of bed, standing upon the floor and dressing hurriedly. "He was well last night," she said, piteously. "Only a few hours ago. He was well and talked to me and----" She stopped suddenly to listen to the voice down-stairs--a new and terrible thought flashing upon her. "Who is with him?" she asked. "Who is talking to him?" "Thar aint no one with him," was the answer. "He's by hisself, honey." Louisiana was buttoning her wrapper at the throat. Such a tremor fell upon her that she could not finish what she was doing. She left the button unfastened and pushed past Nancy and ran swiftly down the stairs, the woman following her. The door of her father's room stood open and the fire Nancy had lighted burned and crackled merrily. Mr. Rogers was lying high upon his pillow, watching the blaze. His face was flushed and he had one hand upon his chest. He turned his eyes slowly upon Louisiana as she entered and for a second or so regarded her wonderingly. Then a change came upon him, his face lighted up--it seemed as if he saw all at once who had come to him. "Ianthy!" he said. "I didn't sca'cely know ye! Ye've bin gone so long! Whar hev ye bin?" But even then she could not realize the truth. It was so short a time since he had bidden her good-night and kissed her at the door. "Father!" she cried. "It is Louisiana! Father, look at me!" But he was looking at her, and yet he only smiled again. "It's bin such a long time, Ianthy," he said. "Sometimes I've thought ye wouldn't never come back at all." And when she fell upon her knees at the bedside, with a desolate cry of terror and anguish, he did not seem to hear it at all, but lay fondling her bent head and smiling still, and saying happily: "Lord! I _am_ glad to see ye!"