creaked constantly.

I made myself known, and was shown to my room,--a small, carpeted room,
with ghastly walls and ceiling. The two windows, both on the same side,
were curtained with heavy muslin yellowed with age. A clean white bed
was in one corner of the room, and opposite it was a square pine table
covered with a black woolen blanket.

Without removing my hat from my head, I seated myself in one of the two
stiff-backed chairs that were placed beside the table. For several heart
throbs I sat still looking from ceiling to floor, from wall to wall,
trying hard to imagine years of contentment there. Even while I was
wondering if my exhausted strength would sustain me through this
undertaking, I heard a heavy tread stop at my door. Opening it, I met
the imposing figure of a stately gray-haired man. With a light straw hat
in one hand, and the right hand extended for greeting, he smiled kindly
upon me. For some reason I was awed by his wondrous height and his
strong square shoulders, which I felt were a finger's length above my
head.

I was always slight, and my serious illness in the early spring had made
me look rather frail and languid. His quick eye measured my height and
breadth. Then he looked into my face. I imagined that a visible shadow
flitted across his countenance as he let my hand fall. I knew he was no
other than my employer.

"Ah ha! so you are the little Indian girl who created the excitement
among the college orators!" he said, more to himself than to me. I
thought I heard a subtle note of disappointment in his voice. Looking in
from where he stood, with one sweeping glance, he asked if I lacked