worry on my account. I'm not
worth it. And, whatever I do, I shall see that you and Lute are provided
for."

Instead of calming her this statement seemed to have the exactly
opposite effect.

"Stop it!" she snapped. "The idea! Do you suppose it's for myself I'm
talkin' this way to you? I guess 'tain't! My soul! I'll look out for
myself, and Lute, too, long's I'm able to walk; and when I can't walk
'twill be because I've stopped breathin'. It's for you I'm talkin', for
you and Comfort. Think of her."

I sighed. "I have been thinking of her, Dorinda," I declared. "She
doesn't know a word about this."

"Then tell her."

"I can't tell her my reason for selling, any more than I can tell
you--or Dean."

"Tell her what you can, then. Tell her as much of the truth as you can.
She'll say you done right, of course. Whatever you do is right to her."

I made no reply. She regarded me keenly.

"Roscoe," she went on, "do you WANT to go somewheres else?"

"I don't know, Dorinda. I might as well be here as anywhere, perhaps. I
am rather blue and discouraged just now, that's all."

"I can't blame you much. But bein' discouraged don't do any good.
Besides, it's always darkest just afore dawn, they say; anyhow, I've had
that preached to me ever since I was a girl and I've tried to believe
it through a good many cloudy spells. Roscoe, don't you let old Jed or
anybody DRIVE you out of Denboro, but, if you WANT to go--if you think
you'd ought to go, to earn money or anything, don't you worry about
leavin' Comfort. I'll look out for her as well as if she was my own.
Remember that."

I laid my hand on hers. "Thank you," I said, earnestly. "Dorinda, you
are a good woman."

To my surprise the eyes behind the spectacles became misty. Tears
in Dorinda's eyes! When she spoke it was in, for her, a curiously
hesitating tone.

"Roscoe," she faltered, "I wonder if you'd be cross if I asked about
what wan't any of my business. I'm old enough to be your grandma, pretty
nigh, so I'm goin' to risk it. You used to be independent enough. You
never used to care for the town or anybody in it. Lately you've changed.
Changed in a good many ways. Is somethin' besides this Lane affair
frettin' you? Is somebody frettin' you? Are you worried about--that
one?"

She had caught me unawares. I felt the blood tingle in my cheeks. I
tried to laugh and made a failure of the attempt.

"That one?" I repeated. "I--Why, I don't understand, Dorinda."

"Do