Without further delay, he had the cabin on the mountainside cleansed of its filth and the greasy and germ-laden furnishings burned. When all had been made clean, the serviceable furnishings were arranged in their places, a few new things bought and installed, and all was made ready for the return of Gena Filson. Slade Pemberton had even outdone himself in the matter of kindness for Gena Filson. He arranged with Emeline Hobbs that she should close up her own little house and go with Gena on the mountain and be her housekeeper.
When the day arrived for Gena Filson to return to the cabin and make it her future home, misgivings were in her heart. But Slade Pemberton closed and locked his store and accompanied Gena and her housekeeper to the new home. At the first sight of the old home, Gena shrank back with dread. She thought of the awful past, of her hard master Jase, whom she had seen standing in the door a thousand times.
“Ay, it’s all different now, Genie, it’s all different now,” said Slade Pemberton, as he led the way.
She came up and took a look through the little door. She saw to her great surprise many changes in that dismal little room. It looked so different, so clean and really sweet, she thought. Then it was to be her home, it was her home. And then she was to have a housekeeper, and the best housekeeper! And it all—all the three acres of corn, potatoes and house—all her own.
“All for me—all mine!” she cried, with delight.
It was the first evening of September now. She had been to the wood-yard, where she had filled her basket with dry chips. Returning, she had built a fire for the night was growing chilly. When the sun was high the days were still warm and pleasant, but the nights were growing cold and tonight there was dampness in the room. Supper was over, and Emeline Hobbs was busy putting away the dishes while she finished the fire. The blaze leaped up and lent a cheerful look to the room as she sat throwing on handfuls of chips.
Gena Filson was herself again now, and was growing stronger each succeeding day. The rose was coming again to her cheeks and she was truly grateful for her existence. She smiled with satisfaction as she listened to the stub, stub of Emeline Hobbs’ wooden peg, as that happy soul busied herself about the kitchen work humming the while “Am I a Soldier.” Then, taking a pailful of beans from a corner of the room, she began stringing them for the morrow’s cooking, as the figure of a boy appeared in the open door.
“Howdy, Genie?”
“Why, how do you do, Boaz. Do come right in. Why, Boaz, this is the first time you have come to see me since—since I came back home. I’m so glad that you have come. Have this chair, Boaz.”
“Jist leave stan’. Iz Emeline here? I’d a come sooner, but I know’d Emeline wuz here. I don’t like her much, you know. You know thet she wuz allus a peckin’ on me in Sunday-skule for sumthin’ or ’nother. But she ain’t done it as much lately as she used to. Maybe she’s got a little more feelin’ fur a feller or sumthin’. I jist thot I’d come up and fetch you these daisies, ef you wanted ’em. They’re about all gone. Found these over by the big stub over yander on Slade’s hill. I started up here more’n two hours ago, but as I cum up, I saw an adder, and laid them daisies down to kill ’em, an’ I like to never found them daisies agin when I got through with that adder. I wisht I may die, ef I didn’t hunt an hour fur ’em ’fore I found ’em. But I found ’em.”