“It ain't quite as heavy as it was,” he said. “Nor so fluffy. I reckon that's beca'se you keep it bound up so tight. When I fust tuck a shine to you, you used to run about them old hills as wild as a deer, an' the wind kept it tousled. Do you remember the day it got full o' cockleburs an' I tried to git 'em out? La me! I was all of a tremble. The Lord knows I never thought then that sech a sweet, scared, rosy little thing ud ever keep house fer me an' cook my grub an' be a mother to my childern. I never dreamt, then, that instead o' bein' grateful fer the blessin', I'd go off weeks at a time an' lie in a gutter, leavin' you to walk the floor in agony--sometimes with a nursin' baby an' not a scrap to eat. No, I never--” “Hush, Pole!” With a sob, half of joy, half of sadness, Mrs. Baker put her hand over his mouth and pressed her face against his. “Hush, hush, hush!” “But, thank God, I hope that day is over,” he said, taking her hand from his lips. “I've passed through a great crisis, Sally. Some'n' you don't know about--some'n' you may _never_ know about--that happened right here in these mountains, but it may prove to be my turnin'-p'int.” His wife looked uneasily at the fire. “It's gittin' late, Pole,” she said. “We'd better go to bed.” XXIX THE following evening was balmy and moonlit. Hillhouse was at Porter's just after supper, seated on the porch in conversation with Mrs. Porter. “Yes, I believe I'd not ask her to see you to-night,” she was advising him. “The poor girl seems completely fagged out. She tries to do as much about the house as usual, but it seems to tire her more. Then she doesn't eat heartily, and I hear her constantly sighing.” “Ah, I see,” Hillhouse said, despondently. “Yes,” the old woman pursued, “I suppose if you finally get her to marry you, you'll have to put up with the memory that she _did_ have a young girl's fancy for that man, Brother Hillhouse. But she wasn't the only one. The girls all liked him, and he did show a preference for her.” “Has she--has she heard the latest news--the very latest?” Hillhouse asked, anxiously. “Has she heard the report that Henry A. Floyd told Mr. Mayhew he had met Nelson and revealed that awful news about his parentage?”