The work progressed rapidly, and they went into the house frequently to fit the gown. "I can wear it to-night, I believe," said the girl, delightedly. "I didn't know sewing was so easy!" "Don't be too hopeful--there's lots to do yet." Noon came on apace and the heat increased. Shimmering waves hung over the parade-ground and vibrated visibly. There was not a tree within the enclosure of the Fort, and the flag hung limply from the staff, stirring only when the hot wind from the south-west swept over the sandy plains. Doctor Norton came out, looked around the deserted Fort, and crossed to Lieutenant Howard's. "Where are you going?" asked Beatrice, indicating an Indian basket he was carrying. "I'm going to the woods--primarily, to find a cool place, and, secondarily, to gather roots and simples. Some of my medicines have given out and I'm going to make a new supply if I can find the proper plants." Katherine was sewing busily and took no part in the conversation, but there was a scarlet signal on either cheek. "If you get enough of anything," said Beatrice, "the poor souls under your care can have some of it, can't they?" "Certainly." "What do you expect to get around here?" "Oh, lots of things. Wild ginger, for instance--would you like some of that?" "Don't care for it," she answered conclusively. "Would you like a concoction of May apples?" "I believe I would--it sounds well." "My dear girl," said Norton, seriously, "the root of the mandrake is such a deadly poison that the Indians give it to their enemies." "I must remember that," murmured the girl. "I may need it for mine." The Doctor laughed, then turned to Mrs. Howard. "Are you well?" he asked anxiously. Katherine's eyes met his. "Yes," she answered, but her voice was scarcely audible. There was an uneasy moment for both of them, then he went away. Beatrice took up her sewing again and saw that Katherine's hands were trembling. "He's an abrupt person," she said; "don't you think so?" "Yes," answered the other, in a low tone. "He's lovable in a way, though, don't you think so? I wonder why he has never married?" Katherine started and her lips moved, but there was no sound. Beatrice looked into her face for an illuminating instant--then she knew. "Katherine!" she cried, in horror. Mrs. Howard dropped her work and fled into the house, trying to lock the door, but the girl was too quick for her. "Katherine, dear!" cried Beatrice, with her arms around the trembling woman, "don't be afraid of me! You poor child, don't you know a friend when you see one?" "Friend?" repeated Katherine, in a rush of unwilling tears; "I have none!" "Yes you have, dear; now listen to me. I'm your friend, and there's nothing in the world that could make me anything else. Tell me, and let me help you!" The words brought back the memory of another day, when the winter snows lay deep upon the ground, and a man's voice, dangerously tender, said the same thing.