The moon was shining now, and there was the path through the pasture, and there was the fence, and there was the box-elder.
She sat there a long time.

Then she saw someone come over the fence and walk to the tree, and then on toward Pete Jones's.

Who could it be?
She thought she recognized the figure.

But she was chilled and shivering, and she crept back again into bed, and dreamed not of the uncertain days to come, but of the blessed days that were past--of a father and a mother and a brother in a happy home.

But somehow the school-master was there too..