But when it was cooked, and Mr. Gillet lifted it up and dusted the
ash away--lo! it was high and light and beautifully white.

So they ate it, and took mental marginal notes to make it in the
paddocks at Misrule for each and every picnic to come.

They piled up two plates of good things and put in the brown man's
cupboard, and Mr. Gillet laid is unread English papers on the chair
near the cat.

"That 'Telegraph' is a month old," he said deprecatingly seeing Meg
smile upon him her first smile that day.


Chapter XIX A Pale-Blue Hair Ribbon


She in her virginal beauty
As pure as a pictured saint,
How should this sinning and sorrow
Have for her danger or taint?

The reason our sweet pale Margaret had been reluctant of her smiles
was on account of the very man who alone missed them.

Quite a warm friendship had sprung up during the month between the
little fair-faced girl, who looked with such serene blue eyes to a
future she felt must be beautiful, and the world-worn man, who looked
back to a past all blackened and unlovely by his own acts.