n； bent on trying the virtue of a final peck。
〃But you haven't congratulated me； Aunt Jessica！ You have turned your back on the bride electyou with all your fine manners！ She presents herself once more to your notice the future Mrs。 Joseph Holden； Junior； to be married one month from last night！〃 And unexpectedly standing in front of Mrs。 Falconer； Amy made one of her low bows which she had practised in the minuet。 But catching the sight of the face of her aunt； she cried remorsefully：
〃Oh； I have been so rude to you； Aunt Jessica！ Forgive me！〃 There was something of the new sense of womanhood in her voice and of the sisterhood in suffering which womanhood alone can bring。
But Mrs。 Falconer had not heard Amy's last exclamation。
〃What do you mean？〃 she asked with quick tremulous eagerness。 She had regained her firmness of demeanour； which alone should have turned back any expression of sympathy before it could have been offered。
〃That I am to become Mrs。 Joseph Holdena month from last night；〃 repeated Amy bewitchingly。
〃You are serious？〃
〃I am serious！〃
Mrs。 Falconer did not take Amy's word： she searched her face and eyes with one swift scrutiny that was like a merciless white flame of truth； scorching away all sham； all play； all unreality。 Then she dropped her head quickly； so that her own face remained hidden； and silently plied her work。 But how the very earth about the rake； how the little roots and clods； seemed to come to life and leap joyously into the air！ All at once she dropped everything and came over and took Amy's hand and kissed her cheek。 Her lovely eyes were glowing； her face looked as though it had upon it the rosy shadow of the peach trees not far away。
〃I do congratulate you；〃 she said sweetly； but with the reserve which Amy's accession to womanhood and the entire conversation of the morning made an unalterable barrier to her。 〃You have not needed advice： you have chosen wisely。 You shall have a beautiful wedding。 I will make your dress myself。 The like of it will never have been seen in the wilderness。 You shall have all the finest linen in the weaving…room。 Only a month！ How shall we ever get ready！if we stand idling here！ Oh； the work； the work！〃 she cried and turned to hers with a dismissing smileunable to trust herself to say more。
〃And I must go and take the things out of my bundle；〃 cried Amy； catching the contagion of all this and bounding away to the house。 Some five minutes later Mrs。 Falconer glanced at the sun： it was eleven o'clocktime to be getting dinner。
When she reached her room； Amy was standing beside the bed； engaged in lifting out of the bundle the finery now so redolent of the ball。 〃Aunt Jessica；〃 she remarked carelessly； without looking round； 〃I forgot to tell you that John Gray had a fight with a panther in his schoolroom this morning；〃 and she gave several gossamer…like touches to the white lace tucker。 Mrs。 Falconer had seated herself in a chair to rest。 She had taken off her bonnet； and her fingers were unconsciously busy with the lustrous edges of her heavy hair。 At Amy's words her hands fell to her lap。 But she had long ago learned the value of silence and self…control when she was most deeply moved： Amy had already surprised her once that morning。
〃The panther bit him in the shoulder close to the neck；〃 continued Amy； folding the tucker away and lifting out the blue silk coat。 〃They were on the floor of the school…house in the last struggle when Erskine got there。 He had gone for Phoebe Lovejoy's cows； because it was raining and she couldn't go herself； and he heard John as he was passing。 He said his voice sounded like the bellow of a dying bull。〃 〃Is he much hurt？ Where is he？ Did you go to see him？ ho dressed his wound？ Who is with him？〃
〃They carried him home；〃 said Amy； turning round to the light and pressing the beautiful silk coat in against her figure with little kicks at the skirt。 〃No； I didn't go； Joseph came round and told me。 He didn't think the wound was very dangerousnecessarily。 One of his hands was terribly clawed。〃
〃A panther？ In town？ In his schoolroom？〃
〃You know Erskine keeps a pet panther。 I heard him tell Mrs。 Poythress it was a female；〃 said Amy with an apologetic icy； knowing little laugh。 〃And he said this one had been prowling about in the edge of the canebrakes for several days。 He had been trying to get a shot at it。 He says it was nearly starved： that was why it wanted to eat John whole before breakfast。〃
Amy turned back to the bed and shook out delicately the white muslin dressthe dress that John had hung on the wall of his cabinthat had wound itself around his figure so clingingly。
There was silence in the room。 Amy had now reached the silk stockings； and taking up one； she blew down into it and quickly peeped over the side； to see whether it would fill out to life…sizewith a mischievous wink。
〃I am going to him at once。〃
Amy looked up in amazement。 〃But； Aunt Jessica；〃 she observed reproachfully； 〃who will get uncle's dinner？ You know I can't。〃 〃Tell your uncle what has happened as soon as he comes。〃
She had risen and was making some rapid preparations。
〃I want my dinner；〃 said Amy ruefully； seating herself on the edge of the bed and watching her aunt with disapproval。
〃You can't go now！〃 she exclaimed。 〃Uncle has the horses in the field。〃
Mrs。 Falconer turned to her with simple earnestness。
〃I hoped you would lend me your horse？〃
〃But he is tired； and beside I want to use him this afternoon： Kitty and I are going visiting。〃
〃Tell your uncle when he comes in；〃 said Mrs。 Falconer； turning in the doorway a minute later； and speaking rapidly to her niece； but without the least reproach； 〃tell your uncle that his friend is badly hurt。 Tell him that we do not know how badly。 Tell him that I have gone to find out and to do anything for him that I can。 Tell him to follow me at once。 He will find me at his bedside。 I am sorry about the dinner。〃
XII
SEVERAL days had slipped by。
At John's request they had moved his bed across the doorway of his cabin； and stretched there； he could see the sun spring every morning out the dimpled emerald ocean of the wilderness； and the moon follow at night； silvering the soft ripples of the multitudinous leaves lapping the shores of silence： days when the inner noises of life sounded like storms； nights when everything within him lay as still as memory。
His wounds had behaved well from the out…set。 When he had put forth all his frenzied despairing strength to throttle the cougar； it had let go its hold only to sink its fangs more deeply into his flesh； thus increasing the laceration； and there was also much laceration of the hand。 But the rich blood flowing in him was the purest； and among a people who for a quarter of a century had been used to the treatment of wounds； there prevailed a rough but genuine skill that stood him in good stead。 To these hardy fighting folk； as to him； it was a scratch and he would have liked to go on with his teaching。 Warned of the danger of inflammation； however； he took to his bed； and according to our own nervous standards which seem to have intensified pain for us beyond the comprehension of our forefathers； he was sick and a great sufferer。
Those long cool； sweet； brilliant days！ Those long still； lonely； silvery nights！ His cabin stood near the crest of the hill that ran along the southern edge of the settlement； and propped on his bed； he could look down into the wide valleyinto the town。 The frame of his door became the frame of many a living picture。 Under a big shady tree at the creek…side； he could see some of his children playing or fishing： their shouts and laughter were borne to his ear； he could recognize their shrill voicesthose always masterful voices of boys at their games。 Sometimes these little figures were framed timidly just outside the doorthe girls with small wilted posies； the boys with inquiries。 But there was no disguising the dread they all felt that he might soon be well： he had felt himself once； he did not blame them。 Wee Jennie even came up with her slate one day and asked him to set her a sum in multiplication； he did so； but he knew that she would rub it out as soon as she could get out of sight； and he laughed quietly to himself at this tiny casuist； who was trying so hard to deceive them both。
Two or three times； now out in the sunlight； now under the shadow of the trees； he saw an old white horse go slowly along the distant road； and a pink skirt and a huge white bonnettwo or three times； but he watched for it a thousand times till his eyes grew weary。
One day Erskine brought the skin of the panther which he was preparing for him； to take the place of the old one under his table。 He brought his rifle along also；his 〃Betsy；〃 as he always called it； which； however； he declared was bewitched just now； and for a while John watched him curiously as he nailed a target on a tree in front of John's door； drew on it the face of the person whom he charged with having bewitched his gun； and then； standing back； shot it with a silver bullet； after which； the spell being now undone； he dug the bullet out of the tree again and went off to hunt with confidence in his luck。
And then the making of history was going on under his eyes down there in the town； and many a thoughtful hour he studied that。 The mere procession of figures across his field of vision symbolized the march of destiny； the onward sweep of the race； the winning of the continent。 Now the barbaric paint and plumes of some proud Indian； peaceably come to trade in pelts but really to note the changes that had taken place in his great hunting ground； loved and ranged of old beyond all others： this figure was the Pastthe old； old Past。 Next； the picturesque； rugged outlines of some backwoods rifleman； who with his fellows had dislodged and pushed the Indian westward： this figure was the Presentthe short…lived Present。 Lastly； dislodging this figure in turn and already pushing him westward as he had driven the Indian； a third type of historic man； the fixed settler； the land…loving； house…building； wife…bringing； child…getting； stock…breeding yeoman of the new field and pasture： this was the figure of the endless