“I’m a beast and nothing less!” he admitted by way of apology and excuse.  “I—­I wish you could forgive me.”

Then slowly the head was raised and to Truedale’s further consternation he saw that mirth, not anguish, had caused the shaking of those deceiving little shoulders.

“Oh!  I see—­you are laughing!” He tried to be indignant.

“Yes.”

“At what?”

“Everything—­you!”

“Thank you!” Then, like a response, something heretofore unknown and unsuspected in Truedale rose and overpowered him.  His shyness and awkwardness melted before the warmth and glow of the conquering emotion.  He got up and sat on the corner of the table nearest his shabby little guest, and looking straight into her bewitching eyes he joined her in a long, resounding laugh.

It was surrender, pure and simple.

“And now,” he said at last, “you must stay and have a bite.  I am about starved.  And you?”

The girl grew sober.

“I’m—­I’m always hungry,” she admitted softly.

They drew the table close to the roaring fire, leaving doors and windows open to the crisp, sweet; morning air.

“We’ll have a party!” Truedale announced.  “I’ll step over to Jim’s cabin and bring the best he’s got.”

When he returned Nella-Rose had placed cups, saucers, and plates on the table.

“Do you—­often have parties?” she asked.

“I never had one before.  I’ll have them, though, from now on if—­if you will come!”

Truedale paused with his arms full of pitchers and platters of food, and held the girl with his admiring eyes.

“And you will let me come and see you—­you and your sister and your father?  I know all about you.  White has explained—­everything.  He—­”

Nella-Rose braced herself against the table and quietly and definitely outlined their future relations.

“No, you cannot come to see us-all.  You don’t know Marg.  If she doesn’t find things out, there won’t be trouble; when she does find things out there’s goin’ t’ be a right smart lot of trouble brewing!”

This was said with such comical seriousness that Truedale laughed again, but sobered instantly when he recalled the incident of the white bantam which Jim had so vividly portrayed.

“But you see,” he replied, “I don’t want to let you go after this first party, and never see you again!”

The girl shrugged her shoulders and apparently dismissed the matter.  She sat down and, with charming abandon, began to eat.  Presently Truedale, amused and interested, spoke again: 

“It would be very unkind of you not to let me see you.”

“I’m—­thinking!” Nella-Rose drew her brows together and nibbled a bit of corn bread meditatively.  Then—­quite suddenly: 

“I’m coming here!”

“You—­you mean that?” Truedale flushed.

“Yes.  And the big woods—­you walk in them?”