allowing her to suspect the fact, he privately placed his
sister's dumplings on a par with Addison's poems. Forgetting both his
grievance of the morning and his later anxiety, due to Persis' singular
conduct, he gave himself up to cheerful anticipation.

The problem which for generations has exercised the wits of amateur
debaters was settled satisfactorily in this instance, at least. The
joys of anticipation far exceeded the pleasure of realization. Joel
took one swallow of the stew and dropped his spoon with a splash.

"What in Sam Hill! What kind of a mess do you call this?"

Persis took a hasty sip, looked incredulous and sipped again. Slowly
the shamed blood crept to the roots of her hair. Yet she spoke with a
self-control fairly brazen.

"Looks as if I'd made a mistake and put in sugar instead of salt."

Joel's gaze swept the table, hawk-like in its searching eagerness.

"Where's the dumplings?"

"I--well, I declare, I forgot the dumplings."

He experienced a chill of actual terror. This was his sister Persis,
Persis the practical and reliable, this woman who sugared the stew, and
allowed the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of the dinner to slip her mind. He was
immediately aware of a singular flush staining her cheeks, a feverish
glitter in her eye.

The gentleness of his comment took her by surprise. "I guess, Persis,
it was only that you was thinking of something else."

"That was it, Joel." She hesitated, then moved by his forbearance
spoke out plainly. "I was thinking, Joel, how it would seem to be
rich."

Again his heart jumped. Such vague vain wishing, so characteristic of
many women, was absolutely foreign to his sister's temperament. He
could not remember the time when she had overlooked the present
satisfaction, however poor and meager, in favor of some joy of fancy.

"I wouldn't let my mind stray off to such things," he said uneasily.

"Well, Joel, I guess I'll have to face it. The fact is, you see, I am
rich."

Her words fell like a thunderbolt, confirming his worst fears. He sat
aghast, unable to decide whether Persis had lost her mind, or this was
the delirium incident to some acute seizure. In tones of such
unnatural gentleness that his sister started as they fell on her ears,
he offered the only suggestion which occurred to him at the moment.

"Hadn't you better go lie down, Persis?"

"Me? Why, I feel all right."

"Well, even if you do, lying down won't hurt you. It's the best