sion of
her. She comforted herself with the thought that maybe life had brought
Martin merely as a door to the citadel which looms, sparkling with
dancing sunlight, in the midst of mysterious shadows. Motherhood--she
would feel as if she were in another world. Out of all this
disappointment would come her ultimate happiness.

Always struggling toward happiness, she was cheered too as the
foundation for the house progressed. Everything would be so different,
she told herself, once they were in their pretty new home. It was true
she had given up a concrete floor for her cellar, but she had seen at
once the good sense of having the concrete in the barn instead. Martin
was right. While it would have been nice in the house, of course, it
would not have begun to be the constant blessing to herself that it
would now be to him. How much easier it would make keeping the barn
clean! Why, it was almost a duty in a dairy barn to have such a floor
and really she, herself, could manage almost as well with the dirt
bottom. But when Martin began to discuss eliminating the whole upper
story of the house, Rose protested.

"You won't use it," he had returned reasonably. "I'll keep my word, but
when a body gets to figuring and sees all that can be built with that
same money, it seems mighty foolish to put it into something that you
don't really need."

As Martin looked at her questioningly, Rose felt suddenly unable to
muster an argument for the additional sleeping-rooms. It was true that
they were not actually necessary for their comfort; but the house as it
had been decided upon was so interwoven with memories of her courtship
and all that was lovable in Martin; it had become so real to her, that
it was as if some dear possession were being torn to pieces before her
eyes.

"I don't know why, Martin," she had answered, with a choky little laugh,
"but it seems as if I just can't bear to give it up."

"Why?"

"I--I--like it all so well the way you planned it."

"Just liking a thing isn't always good reason for having it. It'll make
lots more for you to take care of. What would you say if I was to prove
to you that it would build a fine chicken-house, one for the herd boar,
a concrete tank down in the pasture that'd save the cows enough trips to
the barn to make 'em give a heap sight more milk, a cooling house for it
and a good tool room?" Rose's eyes opened wide. "I can prove it to you."

That was all. But the shack filled with hi