Virgie immediately arose and left the room, and soon after a diminutive
Chinaman appeared in the doorway, bearing a lighted lantern, and
signifying his readiness to "puttee up te hossee."

Mr. Heath left the house with him, and both were gone some time, attending
to the animal's injured leg and trying to make him as comfortable as
circumstances would allow.

During their absence Virgie, at the suggestion of her father, busied
herself in arranging a supper for the storm-beaten traveler, who upon his
return was greeted by the fumes of steaming coffee, while an appetizing
array of cold meats and other viands was spread upon the table, which had
been drawn up before the fire.

"I fear Miss Abbot is making herself trouble on my account," Mr. Heath
remarked, with a swift and grateful glance at the graceful form and
flushed face that was bending over the glowing coals, where the young girl
was toasting to a delicate brown a slice from a wheaten loaf.

"No, indeed; it is no trouble; and a meal after your long ride in the rain
will not come amiss," Virgie answered, looking up and meeting his fine
eyes for an instant.

She deposited the bread upon a plate, and inviting the young man to be
seated, poured with her own hands a cup of fragrant coffee, which she
placed before him.

She continued to wait upon him with exquisite ease and grace until his
hunger was appeased, which was not soon, for it was a rare pleasure for
him to watch her beautiful and expressive face while he chatted with her