e won't be any
concealment between us."

"I know, Lester," she said earnestly, looking him straight in the
eyes. "I promise I'll never conceal anything any more--truly I
won't. I've been afraid, but I won't be now. You can trust me."

"That sounds like what you ought to be," he replied. "I know you
will." And he let her go.

A few days later, and in consequence of this agreement, the future
of Gerhardt came up for discussion. Jennie had been worrying about him
for several days; now it occurred to her that this was something to
talk over with Lester. Accordingly, she explained one night at dinner
what had happened in Cleveland. "I know he is very unhappy there all
alone," she said, "and I hate to think of it. I was going to get him
if I went back to Cleveland. Now I don't know what to do about
it."

"Why don't you send him some money?" he inquired.

"He won't take any more money from me, Lester," she explained. "He
thinks I'm not good--not acting right. He doesn't believe I'm
married."

"He has pretty good reason, hasn't he?" said Lester calmly.

"I hate to think of him sleeping in a factory. He's so old and
lonely."

"What's the matter with the rest of the family in Cleveland? Won't
they do anything for him? Where's your brother Bass?"

"I think maybe they don't want him, he's so cross," she said
simply.

"I hardly know what to suggest in that case," smiled Lester. "The
old gentleman oughtn't to be so fussy."

"I know," she said, "but he's old now, and he has had so much
trouble."

Lester ruminated for a while, toying with his fork. "I'll tell you
what I've been thinking, Jennie," he said finally. "There's no use
living this way any longer, if we're going to stick it out. I've been
thinking that we might take a house out in Hyde Park. It's something
of a run from the office, but I'm not much for this apartment life.
You and Vesta would be better off for a yard. In that case you might
bring your father on to live with us. He couldn't do any harm
pottering about; indeed, he might help keep things straight."

"Oh, that would just suit papa, if he'd come," she replied. "He
loves to fix things, and he'd cut the grass and look after the
furnace. But he won't come unless he's sure I'm married."

"I don't know how that could be arranged unless you could show the
old gentleman a marriage certificate. He seems to want something that
can't be produced very well. A steady job he'd have running the
furnace of a