eyes, hoping that they might assist in concealing his content. Until Max
gave in and agreed to it all, it would never do to let anybody but Sally
crow with delight.

Mrs. Burnside insisted on an early bedtime for Sally, and the
convalescent reluctantly admitted that not even joy was wholly
sustaining to such weakness of limb as was still hers. So she submitted,
with a sigh of appreciation, to being tucked away in the bed in the
southeast enclosure of the tent, and soon was lying peacefully there,
watching through her open tent-flap the moonlight as it lay on the open
lawn, beyond the vista of trees. The air was now stirring refreshingly
through the grove, and Sally, under the thinnest of light summer
blankets, was absolutely comfortable and restful, as she had not been
for many weary nights.

In the adjoining room, Max was asleep in two minutes after he had
stretched himself upon his cot. Outside, by the embers of the camp fire,
Jarvis and Josephine exchanged a brief conversation.

"Is he taking it worse or better than you expected?" Josephine asked, in
the lowest of whispers.

"He took it like the bumptious idiot he can be, at first. He's a trifle
calmer now. I'm hoping by morning he'll be reasonable."

"Don't you think he must see the beauty of it when he looks at Sally?"

"One would think so. I suppose we mustn't blame him too much, for he
certainly is worn out with work in this heat, and isn't himself. If he'll
only be sensible, the staying here will do him as much good as it will