id. "Jeff, is that
your notion about Jackson, or whose is it?"

"It's mine, now."

Mrs. Durgin waited a moment. Then she began, with a feeling quite at
variance with her words:

"Well, I'll thank Cynthy Whit'ell to mind her own business! Of course,"
she added, and in what followed her feeling worked to the surface in her
words, "I know 't she thinks the world of Jackson, and he does of her;
and I presume she means well. I guess she'd be more apt to notice, if
there was any change, than what I should. What did she say?"

Jeff told, as nearly as he could remember, and he told what Cynthia and
he had afterward jointly worked out as to the best thing for Jackson
to do. Mrs. Durgin listened frowningly, but not disapprovingly, as it
seemed; though at the end she asked: "And what am I going to do, with
Jackson gone?"

Jeff laughed, with his head down. "Well, I guess you and Cynthy could
run it, with Frank and Mr. Whitwell."

"Mr. Whit'ell!" said Mrs. Durgin, concentrating in her accent of his
name the contempt she could not justly pour out on the others.

"Oh," Jeff went on, "I did think that I could take hold with you, if you
could bring yourself to let me off this last year at Harvard."

"Jeff!" said his mother, reproachfully. "You know you don't mean that
you'd give up your last year in college?"

"I do mean it, but I don't expect you to do it; and I don't ask it. I
suggested it to Cynthy, when we got to talking it over, and she saw it
wouldn't do."

"Well, she showed some sense that time," Mrs. Durgin said.

"I don't know when Cynthy hasn't shown sense; except once, and then I
guess it was my fault."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, this afternoon I asked her to marry me some time, and she said she
would." He looked at his mother and laughed, and then he did not laugh.
He had expected her to be pleased; he had thought to pave the way with
this confession for the declaration of his intention not to study law,
and to make his engagement to Cynthia serve him in reconciling his
mother to the other fact. But a menacing suspense followed his words.

His mother broke out at last: "You asked Cynthy Whit'ell to marry you!
And she said she would! Well, I can tell her she won't, then!"

"And I can tell you she will!" Jeff stormed back. He rose to his feet
and stood over his mother.

She began steadily, as if he had not spoken. "If that designin'--"

"Look out, mother! Don't you say anything against Cynthia! She's been