"Ye be goin' to tell him that the brat air yers?" queried she brokenly.
"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.