Thad alone, and don't wear yourself out worrying." The
injunction probably had a figurative import though Mrs. West
interpreted it literally.

"Wear myself _out_. I can't so much as wear _off_ a pound. I've been
too upset to eat or sleep for the last two months, and I've been
gaining right along. Most folks can reduce by going without breakfast,
but seems as if it don't make any difference with me whether I touch
victuals or not."

She was rising ponderously when Persis checked her. "Your serge, Mis'
West. We were going to see if 'twas worth making over."

"It's time to get supper, Persis, and there ain't a mite of hurry about
that serge. Truth is," explained Mrs. West, lowering her voice to a
confidential murmur, "'twasn't altogether the dress that brought me
over. I sort of hankered for a talk with you. There never was such a
hand as you be, Persis, to hearten a body up."

Persis found no time that evening for grappling with the problem for
which she had voluntarily made herself responsible. The preparation of
Joel's supper was a task demanding time and prayerful consideration,
for as is the case with most chronic invalids, his fastidiousness
concerning his food approached the proportions of a mania. Her efforts
to gratify her brother's insatiable curiosity on points of history and
literature, had put her several hours behind with her sewing, and as
she owned to a most unprofessional pride in keeping her word to the
letter, midnight found her still at work. A few minutes later she
folded away the finished garment and picked from the rag carpet the
usual litter of scraps and basting threads, after which she was at
liberty to attend to that mysterious rite known to the housekeeper as
"shutting up for the night," a rite never to be omitted even in the
village of Clematis where a locked door is held to indicate that
somebody is putting on airs.

Candle in hand, Persis paused before a photograph, framed in blue plush
and occupying a prominent position on the mantel. "Good night,
Justin," she said in as matter-of-fact a tone as if she were exchanging
farewells with some chance caller. As the candle flickered, a wave of
expression seemed to cross the face in the plush frame, almost as if it
had smiled.

It was a pleasant young face with a good forehead and frank eyes. The
indeterminate sweetness of the mouth and chin hinted that this was a
man in the making, his strength to be wrought out, his weakness