"Dear boy! I knew you could do it! I knew it was in you! Freckles, when you go into the world, if you can face a big audience and sing like that, just once, you will be immortal, and anything you want will be yours." "Anything!" gasped Freckles.
"Anything," said the Angel.
Freckles arose, muttered something, and catching up his old bucket, plunged into the swamp blindly on a pretence of bringing water.

The Angel walked slowly across the study, sat on the rustic bench, and, through narrowed lids, intently studied the tip of her shoe.
On the trail the Bird Woman wheeled to McLean with a dumbfounded look.
"God!" muttered he.
At last the Bird Woman spoke.
"Do you think the Angel knew she did that ?" she asked softly.
"No," said McLean; "I do not.

But the poor boy knew it.

Heaven help him!" The Bird Woman stared across the gently waving swale.

"I don't see how I am going to blame her," she said at last.