you, and I was afraid he wouldn't go to sleep at all
unless--unless I set his mind at rest. Children are so funny."

"What's wrong with the little chap?" Henley came down the steps and
stood beside her. There was an inverted flour-barrel on the ground near
her, and Dixie sat upon it, and swung her feet back and forth for a
little while without seeming to have heard his question. He repeated
it, bending toward her the better to see her face in the starlight.

"Oh, I hardly know how--how to say it." She was studying his face with a
strange, hungry eagerness, which he failed to fathom. "Children are so
odd, Alfred, and have so many fancies that they conjure up themselves. I
reckon he's heard Ma and Aunt Mandy talking about--well, about the big
piece of luck that has come to you all. You know women that have never
had a windfall in any shape through their whole lives naturally make a
lot of the good-fortune that comes to a neighbor, and little Joe has
just set and listened to it all till--well, I reckon even you've changed
from--from his plain friend to--well, something like a king in royal
robes."

"The little goose! Besides--" But Henley's resources furnished no
further comment.

"He actually cried over _one_ thing," Dixie went on, avoiding Henley's
helpless stare. "It was when Aunt Mandy said that, while maybe you and
your wife had not been _quite_ as thick as--as some couples are, that
now, in all her wealth and splendor, you'd be like every other _natural_
man, and be more attentive and--and--even loving."

"How ridiculous!" Henley exclaimed. "Why, Dixie, that money and place
ain't anything to me. It comes to _her_, not to me, and, while I'm glad,
of course, for her sake, still--"

"Joe cried," Dixie broke in, with a cold, resentful shrug. "You see,
Alfred, he felt bad because Aunt Mandy hinted that you'd have to live
over there now, and move away from this farm. You see, as she told
Joe--I wasn't there--I don't listen to their silly gabble, anyway--but,
you see, Alfred, when the little fellow gets an idea like this in his
head and keeps hammering and hammering on it, there ain't nothing to do
but try to pacify him--as Aunt Mandy told Joe, your interests are so
whopping big over there that you will naturally have to be on hand to
look after 'em. Your wife--Mrs. Henley hain't got your head for
business, and it will be your bounden duty to help her run things. Of
course, you _do_ love money. A man would be unnatur