She turned around the cookhouse where the poppies stood straight and strong against the glowing sky. A little single red one with white edges swayed gently on its slender stem and seemed to beckon to her with pleading insistence. She hurried past them, fearing that she would be seen, but looking back the little poppy was still nodding and pleading. "And so ye can go, ye sweetheart," she whispered. "I know what ye want." She came back for it. "Just like Danny would be honin' to come, if it was me," she murmured with a sudden blur of homesickness. Through the pasture she flew with the speed of a deer. The tall sunflowers along the fence seemed to throw a light in the gathering gloom. A night hawk circled in the air above her, and a clumsy bat came bumping through the dusk as she crossed the creek just below Jim's shanty. Bottles, Jim's dog, jumped up and barked, at which Jim himself came to the door. "Come back, Bottles," he called to the dog. "How will I ever get into society if you treat callers that way, and a lady, too! Dear, dear, is my tie on straight? Oh, is that you Pearl? Come right in, I am glad to see you." Over the door of Jim's little house the words "Happy Home" were printed in large letters and just above the one little window another sign boldly and hospitably announced "Hot Meals at all Hours." Pearl stopped at the door. "No, Jim," she said, "it's not visitin' I am, but I will go in for a minute, for I must put this flower in the box. Can ye go to town, Jim, in a hurry?" "I can," Jim replied. "I mean now, this very minute, slappet-bang!" Jim started for the door. "Howld on, Jim!" Pearl cried, "don't you want to hear what ye'r goin' for? Take this box to Camilla--Camilla E. Rose at Mrs. Francis's--and she'll do the rest. It's flowers for poor Polly, sick and dyin' maybe with the fever. But dead or alive, flowers are all right for folks, ain't they, Jim? The train goes at ten o'clock. Can ye do it, Jim?" Jim was brushing his hair with one hand and reaching for his coat with the other. "Here's the money to pay for the ride on the cars," Pearl said, reaching out five of her coins. Jim waved his hand. "That's my share of it," he said, pulling his cap down on his head. "You see, you do the first part, then me, then Camilla--just like the fiery cross." He was half way to the stable as he spoke. He threw the saddle on Chiniquy and was soon galloping down the road with the box under his arm. Camilla came to the door in answer to Jim's ring. He handed her the box, and lifting his hat was about to leave without a word, when Camilla noticed the writing. "From Pearl," she said eagerly. "How is Pearl? Come in, please, while I read the letter--it may require an answer." Camilla wore a shirt-waist suit of brown, and the neatest collar and tie, and Jim suddenly became conscious that his boots were not blackened.