house. But"--he stopped suddenly and looked at his sister's
contracted face; "look yer, Mag, you're sick, that's what's the
matter. Take suthin'"--

"I'm better now," she said with an effort; "it's only a kind o'
blind chill I must hev got on the Marsh last night. What's that?"

She had risen, and grasping her brother's arm tightly had turned
quickly to the window. The casement had suddenly rattled.

"It's only the wind gettin' up. It looked like a sou'wester when I
came in. Lot o' scud flyin'. But YOU take some quinine, Mag.
Don't YOU go now and get down sick like Maw."

Perhaps it was this well-meant but infelicitous reference that
brought a moisture to her dark eyes, and caused her lips to
momentarily quiver. But it gave way to a quick determined setting
of her whole face as she turned it once more to the fire, and said,
slowly:

"I reckon I'll sleep it off, if I go to bed now. What time does
the tide fall."

"About three, unless this yer wind piles it up on the Marsh afore
then. Why?"

"I was only wonderin' if the boat wus safe," said Maggie, rising.

"You'd better hoist yourself outside some quinine, instead o'
talken about those things," said Jim, who preferred to discharge