Allured and baffled, often in the early morning or late evening he would sit in the doorway of his cabin, or out on his rock with his flute, when his thoughts were full of her. Simple, maidenly, and strong, his heart yearned toward her, while instinctively she held herself aloof in quiet dignity. Never had she presented herself at his door unless impelled by necessity. Never had she sat with him in his cabin since that first time when she came to him so heavy hearted for Frale. Only when she knew him to be absent had she gone to his cabin and set all its disorder to rights. Then he would return to find it swept and cleaned, and sweet with wild flowers and pine greenery and vines, his cooking utensils washed and scoured, the floor whitened with scrubbing, in his larder newly baked corn-bread and white beaten biscuits, his honey jar refilled and fresh butter pats in the spring. Sometimes a brown, earthen jug of cool, refreshing buttermilk stood on his table, but always his thanks would be swept aside with the words:-- "Mother sent me up to see could I do anything for you. You are always that kind and we can't do much." "And you never come up when I am at home?" "It isn't every time I can get to go up, I'm that busy here most days." "Only the days when I am absent can you 'get to go up'?" he would say teasingly. "Don't I ever deserve a visit?" "Cass don't get time fer visitin' these days. Since Frale lef' she have all his work an' hern too on her, an' mine too, only the leetle help she gets out'n Hoyle, an' hit hain't much," said the mother. "Doctah, don't ye guess I can get up an' try walkin' a leetle?" "If you will promise me you will only try it when I am here to help you, I will take off the weight, and we'll see what you can do to-day." Cassandra loved to watch David attend on her mother, so tender was he; and he adopted a playful manner that always dispelled her pessimism and left her smiling and talkative. Ere he was aware, also, he made a place for himself In Cassandra's heart when he became interested in the case of her little brother, and attempted gradually to overcome his deformity. Every morning when the child climbed to his eyrie and brought his supply of milk, David took him in and gently, out of his knowledge and skill, gave him systematic care, and taught him how to help himself; but he soon saw that a more strenuous course would be the only way to bring permanent relief, or surely the trouble would increase. "What did Doctor Hoyle say about it?" he asked one day. "He wa'n't that-a-way when doctah war here last. Hit war nigh on five year ago that come on him. He had fevah, an' a right smart o' times when we thought he war a-gettin' bettah he jes' went back, ontwell he began to kind o' draw sideways this-a-way, an' he hain't nevah been straight sence, an' he has been that sickly, too. When doctah saw him last, he war nigh three year old an' straight as they make 'em, an' fat--you couldn't see a bone in him."