With sudden impulse Cassy stole over to him and took his hand and held it tight.
“Don’t! Don’t feel so bad!” she said. “He was weak and wild then. But he was all right afterward. He was happy with me.”
“I’ve owed Cassy this for a good many years, dad,” said Black Andy, “and it had to be paid. She’s got better stuff in her than any Baragar.”
An hour later the old man said to Cassy at the door of her room: “You got to stay here and git well. It’s yours, the same as the rest of us—what’s here.”
Then he went down-stairs and sat with Aunt Kate by the fire.
“I guess she’s a good woman,” he said, at last. “I didn’t use her right.”
“You’ve been lucky with your women-folk,” Aunt Kate answered, quietly.
“Yes, I’ve been lucky,” he answered. “I dunno if I deserve it. Mebbe not. Do you think she’ll git well?”
“It’s a healing air out here,” Aunt Kate answered, and listened to the wood of the house snapping in the sharp frost.