Mrs. Baird was getting supper for her husband and sons, all of whom were in the field with the cattle. Turning from the fire where she was broiling chickens, baking biscuit, and frying potatoes, she caught sight of two forlorn figures coming up the garden path.
"Injuns!" she cried aloud, as, pale and breathless with fright, she looked this way and that for some weapon of defence, "and me here alone!"
But a second glance reassured her. They were nearing the open door, and she could see not only that they were whites, but that there was nothing sinister or fierce in the expression of the man's face, while that of the young girl, though pale and travel-stained, was winsome and even beautiful.
She stepped forward with a cordial "How d'ye do? Walk in, and sit down, and rest, for you are dreadfully tired, I know," setting out some chairs as she spoke.
"Thank you, madam; indeed we are," Rupert replied, lifting his hat with a courtly bow.
But as they crossed the threshold Juanita staggered, and would have fallen had not he caught her in his arms.
"Oh, my darling, my darling!" he cried in tones of acute distress, "have food and rest come too late for you?"
"Food and rest?" repeated Mrs. Baird, greatly shocked, "is she starved? Here, lay her down quick on the lounge in the sitting-room, and I'll bring her a glass of milk at once; 'twont take me a minute to get it."
With a word of thanks Rupert followed the good woman's directions, and had scarcely done so ere she was at his side with the milk.