and set to work, red-checked and excited, but
silent yet. Her mother's needle trembled irregularly under and over, and
a tear or two slid down her cheeks.

Finally Mr. Bell laid down his finished paper and his emptied pipe and
said, "Now then. Out with it."

This was not a felicitious opening. It is really astonishing how little
diplomacy parents exhibit, how difficult they make it for the young to
introduce a proposition. There was nothing for it but a bald statement,
so Diantha made it baldly.

"I have decided to leave home and go to work," she said.

"Don't you have work enough to do at home?" he inquired, with the same
air of quizzical superiority which had always annoyed her so intensely,
even as a little child.

She would cut short this form of discussion: "I am going away to earn
my living. I have given up school-teaching--I don't like it, and, there
isn't money enough in it. I have plans--which will speak for themselves
later."

"So," said Mr. Bell, "Plans all made, eh? I suppose you've considered
your Mother in these plans?"

"I have," said his daughter. "It is largely on her account that I'm
going."

"You think it'll be good for your Mother's health to lose your
assistance, do you?"

"I know she'll miss me; but I haven't left the work on her shoulders. I
am going to pay for a girl--to do the work I've done. It won't cost you
any more, Father; and you'll save some--for she'll do the washing too.
You didn't object to Henderson's going--at eighteen. You didn't object
to Minnie's going--at seventeen. Why should you object to my going--at
twenty-one."

"I haven't objected--so far," replied her father. "Have your plans also
allowed for the affection and duty you owe your parents?"

"I have done my duty--as well as I know how," she answered. "Now I am
twenty-one, and self-supporting--and have a right to go."

"O yes. You have a right--a legal right--if that's what you base your
idea of a child's duty on! And while you're talking of rights--how about
a parent's rights? How about common gratitude! How about what you owe
to me--for all the care and pains and cost it's been to bring you up. A
child's a rather expensive investment these days."

Diantha flushed, she had expected this, and yet it struck her like a
blow. It was not the first time she had heard it--this claim of filial
obligation.

"I have considered that position, Father. I know you feel that
way--you've often made me feel it. So I've been