nearer a
mate for him, indeed, than for hairy-limbed, big-jointed Isom Chase,
with his grizzled hair and beard.

"It was all over a little piece of ribbon I bought yesterday when I took
the eggs up to the store," she explained. "I got two cents a dozen more
than I expected for them, and I put the extra money into a ribbon--only
half a yard. Here it is," said she, taking it from the cupboard; "I
wanted it to wear on my neck."

She held it against her swathed throat with a little unconscious play of
coquetry, a sad smile on her lips.

"It's nice, and becoming to you, too," said Joe, speaking after the
manner of the countryside etiquette on such things.

"Isom said I ought to have put the money into a package of soda, and
when I wouldn't fuss with him about it, that made him madder and madder.
And then he--he--did that!"

"You wouldn't think Isom would mind ten cents," said Joe.

"He'd mind one cent," said she in bitter disdain. "One cent--_huh_! he'd
mind one egg! Some people might not believe it, but I tell you, Joe,
that man counts the eggs every day, and he weighs every pound of butter
I churn. If I wanted to, even, I couldn't hide away a pound of butter or
a dozen of eggs any more than I could hide away that stove."

"But I don't suppose Isom means to be hard on you or anybody," said Joe.
"It's his way to be close and stingy, and he may do better by you one of
these days."

"No, he'll never do any better," she sighed. "If anything, he'll do
worse--if he can do any worse. I look for him to strike me next!"

"He'd better not try that when I'm around!" said Joe hotly.

"What would you do to him, Joe?" she asked, her voice lowered almost to
a whisper. She leaned eagerly toward him as she spoke, a flush on her
face.

"Well, I'd stop him, I guess," said Joe deliberately, as if he had
considered his words. As he spoke he reached down for his hat, which he
always placed on the floor beside his chair when he took his meals.

"If there was a soul in this world that cared for me--if I had anywhere
to go, I'd leave him this hour!" declared Ollie, her face burning with
the hate of her oppressor.

Joe got up from his chair and left the table; she rose with him and came
around the side. He stopped on his way to the door, looking at her with
awkward bashfulness as she stood there flushed and brilliant in her
tossed state, scarcely a yard between them.

"But there's nobody in the world that cares for me," she complai