I could shout and sing all day." "It requires very little to make some people happy." "You are not much, but you are going to be more soon," laughed the Harvester, as he gently picked up the Girl and carried her to the swing, where he covered her, kissed her hot hand, and whistled for Belshazzar.
He pulled the table close and set a pitcher of iced fruit juice on it.
Then he left her and she could hear the rattle of wheels as he crossed the bridge and drove away.
"Betsy, this is mighty serious business," said the Harvester.

"The Girl is scorching or I don't know fever.

I wonder----well, one thing is sure----she is bound to be better off in pure, cool air and with everything I can do to be kind, than in Henry Jameson's attic with everything he could do to be mean.

Pleasant men those Jamesons! Wonder if the Girl's father was much like her Uncle Henry?
I think not or her refined and lovely mother never would have married him.

Come to think of it, that's no law, Betsy.