voice, nor even surprise, but a
kind of quiet sorrow. "I couldn't let the poor brutes suffer," she
explained.

"Yes, I'm leaving," said Beulah. "I can't stand it any longer."

The mother sighed. "I've seen it coming for some time," she said, at
length. "I suppose it can't be helped."

"You're so passive," returned the girl, with a touch of impatience.
"You make me want to fight. Of course it can be helped, but it can't
be helped by always giving in."

"Your father has met one of his own mettle at last," said the mother,
and the girl fancied she detected a note of pride, but whether of
father, or daughter, or both, she could only guess. "Well, it's all
very sad. Your father is a good man, Beulah...I should send you back
to your bed, but somehow I can't. I--I don't blame you, Beulah."

She had finished the last cow. Beulah helped with the pails of milk,
and the two women went back to the house together. When Mary had
washed her hands she took her daughter's face between her palms and
kissed her on the cheeks. Slowly Beulah's arms stole about her neck,
and it took all the steel in her nature to prevent surrender.

"It's not you I'm going from," she managed to say. "You understand
that, don't you? I'll write to you often, and we'll surely meet
before long...But I've just got to. There's no other way out."

"Stay till morning, Beulah. Your father may be disposed to give and
take a little then, and you'll do the same, won't you?...Oh, my girl,
don't break up our home like this!"

"You can't break up what you haven't got. Aside from you, why should
I call this place home? I work here, and get my board and clothes.
Well, I can work other places, and get my board and clothes. If I've
got to be a cog in a money-making machine, I will at least choose the
machine."

"What plans have you made? Where are you going?"

"Haven't made any plans, and don't know where I'm going. But I'm
going. At present that's enough. The plans will come along as they're
needed."

"Have you any money?" asked the mother, with a brisk effort at
cheerfulness. She was already planning for her daughter in the new
world she was about to enter.

"Enough to start me. That's all I need. I can earn more. It's not
work I'm afraid of, although I suppose father won't be able to see it
that way. He'll put all this down to laziness and obstinacy. It's
neither. It's just a plain human craving to _live_."

"I sometimes wonder whether I'll be able to stand