“Just as I crossed the threshold he had taken a cautious peep into the tiny oven. As he lifted his red face a radiant and expectant smile wreathed his seamy mug, and mouth-juice trickled down either side of his chin, anticipating the delight to be. Presently he took me by the arm, lead me cautiously over to the stove and opened the oven to let me see what it contained. ‘A cake, by thunder!’ he said. ‘Ain’t she a peach, Davy, old boy! Look at her foam! She is sure great stuff—and—but—Gee! She’s—what’s it doing—it’s—’ and just then there was a sizz-z-z—and ‘she struck bottom.’ Bill’s face fell with the cake and he banged the door with a vengeance. For a moment he stood with his hands thrust into his pockets, and then burst out:—‘Bake—damn ye—we’ll eat you anyhow!’ ‘What seems to be the trouble with it, Bill?’ I asked as consolingly as I could without roaring. ‘She ought to be good—I looked in the receipt book, and the first thing I read about cakes it said—the yelks of seven aigs—Sheep don’t lay no aigs, so I shut the book and fixed ’er up to suit myself. I put in plenty of sugar and baking-powder and plenty of corn-meal to give ’er body. I didn’t have no vanilly or lemon flavor, so I just put in a squirt of Perry Davis’ Pain Killer, and I guess that’s what knocked her out.’” “Did you eat it?” asked Bess. “N—no; we tried to scoop out the middle, but even Bill declined and said he guessed he’d flop her over and bake her again tomorrow.” “Well, this time mine seems to be all right,” remarked Bess, as she peered into the oven. What a chat the two were having, both enjoying it greatly. “I came in here trying to find Mrs. West. I am going away this afternoon and am anxious to make a settlement with her before leaving.” “This afternoon—you are going—away,” asked the girl in a tone more solicitous than she realized. Davis slowly rose from his chair and hobbled near Bess, standing with her hands clasped loosely behind her. “Yes—do you care? Tell me you care. Tell me you’ll miss me, little girl,” he said, with a sudden outburst of passion, as he clasped both the girl’s hands in his own strong hold. He bent his head low. The fragrance from her hair intoxicated him and a great desire seized him to clasp her in his arms. Bess, frightened at his unexpected and new attitude toward her, for a moment could not move. She felt his breath against her hair, and heard his heart as it beat loudly. She felt afraid to move lest she hurt his foot, and now the blood was throbbing in her throat painfully. The thought flashed through her mind that they were alone in the big house, and even could she have cried out for some one to come, she felt that it would be an insult to the man near her. What had she to fear?