He brought in wood and mended the hearth fire; he moved about doing such household tasks as were allotted to his masculine hands, and scarcely let his eyes rest once upon the girl in the chimney-corner.

He dreaded the sight of that beautiful face which gave him such a shock of pity and admiration and horror.

Jim Otis's mind could not compass this new revelation of a woman, but he would not betray her even for her own pleading if he went down perjured to his grave.

So valiant was he in her defence that he withstood her against her own self.
Madelon's mother had died when she was a little girl.

She could not fairly remember that ever in her whole life she had been so tended and petted as she was that night by Jim Otis's mother.