“Jean’s been putting this into your head, Annie,” he said after a painful silence.
“The child has a strong sense of justice, inherited from you, John. You know she is wonderfully like you.”
“Yes, yes, Annie. I wish she had been a boy instead o’ Hal. She’d have made a rackin’ good lawyer.”
“I’ll admit that she advised me to urge you to make the deed, John.”
“Very well; we’ll see about it sometime, Annie” and he arose to go.
Mrs. Ranger’s heart sank.
“Why is it that men who are proverbially just and upright in their dealings with their fellow-men are so often derelict in duty where women, especially their own wives, are concerned?” she asked herself as she tottered by his side in silence.
The next morning found her unable to rise. A racking cough, which had disturbed her all through the night, was followed at daybreak by a burning fever. Her husband, who had slept like a top in an adjoining tent, was startled when he saw the ravages the night had left upon her pinched, white face.
“You caught cold last night, darling,” he said, as he prescribed a simple remedy. “You ought not to have been sitting out in the night air.”