oo much was a dangerous
train--for me. I laughed, with pretended carelessness.

"Why, yes; I was employed in a bank at one time. I think I told you
that. Have you been motoring much of late, Miss Colton?"

"Yes. Tell me, please: You really like your work?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then I will answer your question. I am not a bit sorry. I am glad I was
impertinent and intrusive, especially now that I have apologized and
you have accepted the apology. I am very glad I told you you should do
something worth while."

"Even if it were nothing more than to follow Thoph Newcomb's example and
sell fish."

"Yes," laughingly, "even that. I WAS impertinent, wasn't I! I don't
wonder you were offended."

"I needed the impertinence, I guess. But frankly, Miss Colton, I can't
see why you should be glad because I have gone to work. I can't see what
difference my working or idling can possibly make to you."

"Oh, it doesn't, of course--except on general principles. I am a
dreadful idler myself; but then, I am a woman, and idleness is a woman's
right."

I thought of Dorinda and of the other housewives of Denboro and how
little of that particular "right" they enjoyed; which thought brought
again and forcibly to my mind the difference between this girl's life
and theirs--and Mother's--and my own.

"A man," continued Miss Colton, sagely, "should not idle. He should work
and work hard--so that the rest of us may be as good for nothing as we
please. That is philosophy, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"You were good enough not to say what sort of philosophy. Thank you. But
seriously, Mr. Paine, I am fond of your mother--very fond, considering
our short acquaintance--and when I saw her lying there, so patient, and
deprived of the little luxuries and conveniences which she needs, and
which a little more money might bring to her, it seemed to me . . .
Gracious! what a lot of nonsense I am talking! What is the matter with
me this afternoon? Do let's change the subject. Have you sold your land
yet, Mr. Paine? Of course you haven't! That is more nonsense, isn't it."

I think she had again spoken merely on the impulse of the moment;
doubtless there was no deliberate intention on her part to bring me to a
realization of my position, the position I occupied in her thoughts;
but if she had had such an intent she could not have done it more
effectively. She believed me to have been neglecting Mother, and her
interest in my "doing something worth while" was i