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Miss Gordon complied, then followed the old favorite with a two-step played in as sprightly a manner as the organ would allow. She clapped him into her own warm bed, and incredibly soon things were sizzling over the alcohol lamp. Billy was suddenly overcome with bashfulness when the child, quite composed, came forward to meet him. A bath, a shampoo, and new clothes had transformed her from a tangled, smudged little girl to a lovely miss with a high-bred air foreign to the childish manners Billy understood. He recognized Edith’s gown in the pretty frock mother and daughter had sat late to make over; but the neat ties and hose, all the little things it takes to make a girl look pretty, where had they come from?.

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Just then he saw a wagon in the distance rounding the curve of the mountain. This was his minute. He must get her before that team passed. Then if any one attempted to prevent him he would have help. He turned back to May Nell. “Wharfmaster, ahoy!” Billy hailed, as they came near the water’s edge. “Is all ship-shape?” Jimmy tried not to look pleased, but failed. Something about May Nell attracted him, whether it was her beauty, her fearlessness, or her air of distinction he did not know. It was really her recognition of something fine in him that his cold and irascible father had almost whipped out of him. “Gosh! Wisht Betty was here right this minute. Mebbe I’m dyin’. Hope nobody starts twangin’ a harp. My nose is worser’n ever!”.