ust thought of a plan," said she, suddenly. "Let me
take the books to take care of, and you needn't take the five hundred
dollars unless you want to. Let it be in Mr Slight's hands, and while
I have the books you will have the interest. I don't suppose you know
it, but he had that much of me when he built his new tannery, eight
years ago, and he has paid me regular ten per cent, ever since. It
looks like usury, don't it? But he says it's worth that to him; and I'm
sure, if it is, he's welcome to it. Now, if you'll take that while I
have the books, I'll call it even--risk or no risk; and you can give it
up and have the books when you want them. I call that fair. Don't
you?"

Did ever so extraordinary a proposal come from so unexpected a quarter?
The mother and children looked at one another in astonishment.

"Miss Bethia," said Mrs Inglis, gravely, "that is a large sum of
money."

"Well--that's according as folks look at it. But don't let us worry any
more about it. There is no better way to fix it that I know of than
that."

Mrs Inglis did not know how to answer her.

"Mrs Inglis," said Miss Bethia, solemnly, "I never thought you was a
difficult woman to get along with before."

"But, Miss Bethia," said Violet, "mamma knows that you wish to do this
for our sakes and not at all for your own."

"No she doesn't, neither! And what about it, any way? It's my own,
every cent."

"Miss Bethia," said David, "are you very rich?"

Miss Bethia gave a laugh, which sounded like a sob.

"Yes; I'm rich, if it comes to that! I've got more than ever I'll
spend, and nobody has got any claim on me--no blood relation except
cousin Ira Barnes's folks--and they're all better off than I be, or they
think so. Bless you! I can let your ma have it as well as not, even if
I wasn't going to have the books, which I am, I hope."

"Miss Bethia, I don't know what to say to you," said Mrs Inglis.

"Well, don't say anything, then. It seems to me you owe it to your
husband's memory to keep the books together. For my part, I don't see
how you can think of refusing my offer, as you can't take them with
you."

"To care for the books--yes--"

"See here, David!" said Miss Bethia, "what do you say about it? You are
a boy of sense. Tell your ma there's no good being so contrary--I
mean--I don't know what I mean, exactly," added she. "I shall have to
think it over a spell."

David turned his eyes toward his mother in wonder