This was not very intelligible to Draxy. The thin and tattered old paper
looked singularly worthless to her. But rising again, she said simply as
before, "I am very sorry for you, Mr. Potter; and I thank you for trying
to pay us! Will you let some one go and show me to the hotel where I ought
to sleep?"

Stephen Potter was embarrassed. It cut him to the heart to send this
daughter of Reuben Miller's out of his house to pass the night. But he
feared Mrs. Potter very much. He hesitated only a moment.

"No, Miss Miller. You must sleep here. I will have you shown to your room
at once. I do not ask you to see my wife. It would not be pleasant for you
to do so." And he rang the bell. When the servant came, he said,--

"William, have a fire kindled in the blue room at once; as soon as it is
done, come and let me know."

Then he sat down near Draxy and asked many questions about her family, all
of which she answered with childlike candor. She felt a strange sympathy
for this miserable, stricken, wicked man. When she bade him good-night,
she said again, "I am very sorry for you, Mr. Potter. My father would be
glad if he could help you in any way."

Stephen Potter went into the parlor where his wife sat, reading a novel.
She was a very silly, frivolous woman, and she cared nothing for her
husband, but when she saw his face she exclaimed, in terror, "What was it,
Stephen?"

"Only Reuben Miller's daughter, come two days' journey after some money I