Neither Amos nor his caller spoke. In a few minutes Lydia's step
sounded on the stairs. The last of the sunset glow caught her hair,
and the fine set of her head on her square little shoulders was never
more pronounced than as she walked slowly toward Dave Marshall.

"I never had a licking," she said, "but I guess I deserve one and so
you'd better do it and get it done, Mr. Marshall."




CHAPTER III

THE COTTAGE


"The young pine knows the secrets of the ground. The old pine knows
the stars."--_The Murmuring Pine_.


Marshall cleared his throat and reaching out, took Lydia by the arm and
pulled her toward him. He could feel her muscles stiffen under his
touch. The bright red color left her cheeks.

"I wouldn't think much of your father, my child," he said, huskily, "if
he let me whip you, even if I wanted to."

Lydia took a quick look up into his face. Then she gave a little
gasping sigh, her lips quivered and she leaned against his knee.