"You didn't mind my running in, did you, Tessibel?" asked Frederick, turning toward the squatter with a broad, comrade-like smile. Then he noticed his sister, with surprise.

"Ah, Teola! you, too, were caught in the storm? What a blessing to have a shelter like this! Miss Tessibel won't mind if we stay until it is over. I came home before I was expected. I almost wish, now, that I had waited until morning. But I am safe here, though.... Whew! it is a terrible night."

The distance between Teola and Tessibel widened perceptibly. Neither girl attempted to speak, and the student smiled at the embarrassment upon his sister's face. He made to go toward her.

"You needn't mind being here, dear," he said in a low tone. "I don't believe as Father and Mother do. I shouldn't ask for you to be in a better place than this hut."

He turned his face toward the roof, letting his eyes sweep the cobwebbed net, the old coats upon the wall; and lastly to the stove, out of the top of which jutted the smoking knot.

"There is here," he continued impressively, "a feeling of rest and contentment to me.... I believe, Tessibel Skinner, that your faith permeates every inch of it."

He lifted the lid of the stove, and shoved the smouldering wood from sight. His deep voice came again to Tessibel's ears as if from afar: "I wish I could impress upon my father what it means to pray and be good and pure under such circumstances as surround you. I mean, you know, Tess"--here he turned squarely upon her--"I mean that, for one so young, you have purity of faith and uplifted confidence in God's goodness."