"Very good, sir; Mose it shall be." They entered the front door into the low-ceiled, small sitting room where a young girl was sitting sewing, with a babe at her feet.
"My daughter, Mrs.Craig," said Reynolds gently.

"Daughter, this young man is Mr.Mose Harding, who comes from my old friend Delmar.

He is going to stay with us for a time.

Sit down, Mose, and make yourself at home." The girl blushed painfully, and Mose flushed sympathetically.

He could not understand the mystery, and ignored her confusion as far as possible.