During the illness of Teola, Tessibel had forgotten that she had promised Professor Young she would come some morning to his office in Morril Hall on the hill. Two weeks after the birth of the baby, Tess filled his small stomach with warm milk, shoved the sugar rag into his mouth, hung the child's bed over her arm, and made off toward the tracks. The sun was far in the heavens before she stopped at the building in which Deforest Young had his office. He was looking from the window, and saw her glance about hastily, settling the cover to her basket a little closer. "That child will be my ruination," he muttered, seating himself at the desk. "She affects me so strangely that I can't get her out of my mind. To bring her to a place of safety.... But what can I do? She won't let me help her!" The thought of Frederick Graves came over him with torture. Was it possible for her to love a lad who could not, and did not aid her? If he could but guide the girl, he would know who her companions were. Tessibel stood in the door, the red curls covering the burden upon her arm--one would have thought it was purposely done, if she had not placed it carefully in the corner. She awkwardly seated herself in the chair Young had placed for her near him. "I thought you were never coming," said he. "I have been looking for you for many days." "I were a comin', but I couldn't.... And I can't go with ye to see Daddy." Her eyes filled with tears, but she hastily wiped them away with her sleeve. "Of course you are going," replied the professor. "I suppose you think you can't go in with bare feet. But I will get you a pair of shoes." "I could get a pair good 'nough for a squatter," Tess assured him, "but I can't go." "Why?" "'Cause I can't! I has somethin' to do." "Can't you do it after you return? Your father will be so disappointed if you do not go to him when you have promised." He was gazing at her keenly. Her eyes dropped upon her folded hands in her lap. "I knows that," she breathed, "but I can't go, just the same." Young did not persist in the argument. "It is almost a certainty that your father will get another trial," he went on presently. "I shall act as his lawyer, and, little girl, when the snow flies again, your father will be home in the cabin with you." She flashed him a radiant smile through the tears which still clung to her lashes. He loved to watch the color coming and going swiftly, and the glints thrown into her eyes by the sun. "It air the student's God what will bring him." She bent eagerly toward him, with a quick motion. "Be ye one of the prayin' kind what tells God all ye needs? Daddy would have been a-hung by the neck till he was dead, only the student telled me how to pray and he air a-prayin', too."