In fettering the hands of this Lassiter she was accomplishing the greatest good of her life, and to do good even in a small way rendered happiness to Jane Withersteen.

She had attended the regular Sunday services of her church; otherwise she had not gone to the village for weeks.

It was unusual that none of her churchmen or friends had called upon her of late; but it was neglect for which she was glad.

Judkins and his boy riders had experienced no difficulty in driving the white herd.

So these warm July days were free of worry, and soon Jane hoped she had passed the crisis; and for her to hope was presently to trust, and then to believe.