CHAPTER XVII
Tessibel's Prayer
For four lingering days, hour after hour, Tess of the Storm Country waited for Frederick. He had promised to return, and so each day when her household duties were completed, she hastened to the ragged rocks at the edge of the forest. But her eager hope passed into sick apprehension as the lingering twilights of successive evenings deepened into the darkness of night and he did not come. Tess grew paler and more dejected, so that even Daddy Skinner's fading sight remarked it.
"Ain't feelin' quite pert, be ye, brat?" he inquired.
Tessibel started nervously.... It was habitual now if any one spoke to her quickly.
"I ain't sick, daddy," she assured him. "I guess it air the hot day makin' me tired."
"Nuff to bake the hair off a cast iron pup," observed Andy, from the garret hole.
"I'll bet it air some warm up there, pal," sympathized Orn.
"Ye bet yer neck," agreed Andy cheerfully.