She stood with parted, quivering lips, with hands tightly clasping the locket to her heaving breast.

A new conscious pride of worth dignified the old wild, free grace and poise.
"Uncle Jim!" she said, tremulously, with a different smile from any Venters had ever seen on her face.
Lassiter took her into his arms.
"I reckon.

It's powerful fine to hear that," replied Lassiter, unsteadily.
Venters, feeling his eyes grow hot and wet, turned away, and found himself looking at Jane Withersteen.

He had almost forgotten her presence.

Tenderness and sympathy were fast hiding traces of her agitation.