"Ye air awful good to me, you air. Oh, I needed ye so, and I feared—I feared mebbe ye wasn't never comin' again!"
"My dear, my dear," Young soothed, much moved. Then he rose and placed her in the chair. "You sit here and tell me about it."
Bravely she looked into the friendly face, a doleful smile quivering on her lips.
"The first thing I want to know," she asked, "what air ye goin' to do 'bout Andy?"
Professor Young had anticipated this question.
"Until I've had more time to think about it, and until after the funeral anyway, I'll keep your secret," he reassured her kindly.
"An' ye won't say anythin' to nobody 'bout 'im till ye talk with me again?" she queried, fearfully.
"That's what I mean, Tess," Young answered.
"Ye air so good to me, ye air," sighed Tess, satisfied.
"Child," began Young a moment later, "can you bear to tell me about it, now?"