The Mountain Girl

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He dropped into a deep chair and waited, with troubled eyes regarding her. "There!" She rubbed vigorously down on the blotter. "These are all done, every blessed one, James. Now what?"

In an instant she was curled up, feet and all, like a kitten in his lap, her small brown head, its wisps of fine, straight hair straying over temples and rounded cheeks, tucked comfortably under his chin; and thus every point was carefully talked over.

With many exclamations of anxiety and doubt, and much discreet suggestion from the small adviser, it was at last settled. Frale was to be properly clothed from the missionary boxes sent every year from the North. He should stay with them for a while until a suitable place could be found for him. Above all things he must be kept out of bad company.

"Oh, dear! Poor Cassandra! After all her hopes – and she might have done so much for her people – if only – " Tears stood in the brown eyes and even ran over and dropped upon the bishop's coat and had to be carefully wiped off, for, as he feelingly remarked, —

"I can't go about wearing my wife's tears in plain view, now, can I?"

And then Doctor Hoyle's young friend – she must hear his letter. How interesting he must be! Couldn't they have him down? And when the bishop next went up the mountain, might she accompany him? Oh, no. The trip was not too rough. It was quite possible for her. She would go to see Cassandra and the old mother. "Poor Cassandra!"

But the self-respecting old stepmother and her daughter did not allow these kind friends to trespass on any missionary supplies, for Uncle Jerry was despatched down the mountain with a bundle on the back of his saddle, which was quietly left at the bishop's door; and Frale next appeared in a neat suit of homespun, home woven and dyed, and home-made clothing.