Tess of the Storm Country

"I'll go and make it all right with him. He shall come to you to-day.... Oh, what a wicked girl I was! Kiss me, Tess."

Elias Graves' beautiful daughter sank on the breast of the squatter, and there was a kiss of forgiveness.

The baby whimpered. Teola drew away from Tessibel with a long sigh. She reached for the milk-can.

"There ain't none there," Tess said, with a touch of joy in her tones. "It air all gone. He et all that you brought him."

"And I can't get him any more now," moaned Teola. "Oh, Tess, I'm so ill! I wish I were dead!"

A tall boy had repeated the same words the night before. Tess drew herself up painfully. She pitied Teola from the bottom of her heart, but, in spite of her pity, she could not help the thrill of happiness when she thought of Frederick coming, and knowing all.

"It ain't no use to wish ye were dead," said she, "'cause ye can't allers die if ye wants to. When I thought Daddy was a-goin' to the rope, I say every day I were a-goin' to die.... Women ain't a-dyin' so easy."

She was preparing the warm sop for the child, and taking him from his mother's arm, she sat down in the rocking chair. She did not speak again until she had drained the sweetened water from the bread-crusts, and the child had smacked it down eagerly.

Suddenly she spoke, handing the babe to Teola.

"Can't ye put out a drop more milk evenin's?"

"I took all there was last night, and the night before, too. And this morning Rebecca was furious--she had to go without milk in her coffee. I don't know that I can get any to-night."

"The weather air so cold now," explained Tess, "Kennedy won't let his cows stay in the fields nights. I might crib some more if I could. Every time I steals up to yer house, I thinks yer woman'll see me; and yer Pappy and Mammy comes home to-morry."

Teola nodded.

"If yer Pappy catched me swipin' milk, he'd knock the head offen me. I steals it just the same.... I air afraid of yer Pappy, though."

"No wonder," replied Teola, and she lapsed into silence.

Her father hated the squatter girl--hated the fishermen who still plied their unlawful trade under the noses of the gamekeepers.

Teola was crying softly. She felt it was only just to relieve Tess of the stigma she had placed upon her. But to go home and face the proud young brother with the story of her sin--with the lie she had told--were almost unbearable. Then another thought pierced her. Could Tess keep the baby all winter? And would she herself have the courage to live, knowing that he might sometimes be hungry and cold? Frederick would help her. She was glad she had decided to tell him.