ed Mrs. Page, "and the poor boy feels so badly over it. His
heart is set on going to college and being a doctor like his father.
He believes he could work his way through, if he could only get a
start. But there isn't any chance. And I can't afford to keep him at
school any longer. He is going into Mr. Churchill's store at Willow
Centre in the fall. Mr. Churchill has very kindly offered him a place.
Leicester hates the thought of it--I know he does, although he never
says so."

"Next to Leicester's college course we want--"

"Music lessons for Jean."

Dorinda winked again.

"Are music lessons for Jean really a difficulty?" she said. "That is,
one spelled with a capital?"

"Oh, yes, Dorinda dear. At least, I'm worried over it. Jean loves
music so, and she has never had anything, poor child, not even as much
school as she ought to have had. I've had to keep her home so much to
help me with the work. She has been such a good, patient little girl
too, and her heart is set on music lessons."

"Well, she must have them then--after we get Leicester's year at the
academy for him. That's two. The third is a new--"

"The roof _must_ be shingled this fall," said Mrs. Page anxiously.
"It really must, Dorinda. It is no better than a sieve. We are nearly
drowned every time it rains. But I don't know where the money to do it
is going to come from."

"Shingles for the roof, three," said Dorinda, as if she were carefully
jotting down something in a mental memorandum. "And fourth--now,
Mother Page, I _will_ have my say this time--fourthly, biggest capital
of all, a Nice, New Dress and a Warm Fur Coat for Mother Page this
winter. Yes, yes, you must have them, dearest. It's absolutely
necessary. We can wait a year or so for college courses and music
lessons to grow; we can set basins under the leaks and borrow some
more if we haven't enough. But a new dress and coat for you we must,
shall, and will have, however it is to be brought about."

"I wouldn't mind if I never got another new stitch, if I could only
manage the other things," said Mrs. Page stoutly. "If your Uncle
Eugene would only help us a little, until Leicester got through! He
really ought to. But of course he never will."

"Have you ever asked him?" said Dorinda.

"Oh, my dear, no; of course not," said Mrs. Page in a horrified tone,
as if Dorinda had asked if she had ever stolen a neighbour's spoons.

"I don't see why you shouldn't," said Dorinda seriously.

"O