strong arm she hung tenderly as they strolled slowly back to the
cottage. John was changed. A sort of blight seemed to have swept over
him. She understood the cause of it and loved him all the more. That he
would never open his lips on the subject she was sure, but she could
read many of his thoughts which burrowed through some of his roundabout
utterances, as, for instance, what he said as they stood at their little
gate.

"We must have some good long talks about my business," he said. "About
what's far ahead, you know, as well as right now. Sam wants me here. In
fact, he pretends to think he can't do without me to help out in several
big contracts, but between me and you-- I was wondering yesterday what
you'd think if I was to tell you that I'm just fool enough to think that
I could go to some big Western city and light on my feet right at the
start. A fellow that sells cement and lime to us told me not long ago
that I could hit it big out in Seattle. He was looking over some of my
figures that Sam showed him. I was wondering-- You see, I am a little
afraid that you might not like to go away so far from your kin, with a
big hulk of a scamp like me, and--and--" John swung the gate open and
seemed unable further to direct his anxious outpourings.

Tilly understood--too well she understood what he meant, what he
feared--and she made up her mind that a dubious move for her sake only
should not be taken. John had not thought of such a thing before
marriage. Why should it happen now?

"I don't think you really ought to make a change just yet," she said,
firmly. "Mr. Cavanaugh is determined to push you ahead as fast as
possible. He told me so the other day. He said he needed your brain for
expert estimates and calculations, and that there were big things ahead
of you both as a firm."

John was now unlocking the door, and the dark interior of the house
seemed to add more gloom to his troubled bearing. "Oh, Sam's all right,"
he said. "Sam means well and would do right by me, but--but I can't say
exactly that I like this town. There is nothing to it. They tell me that
the West is a different proposition. Folks don't--don't meddle in one
another's business out there. It is more free and easy, not so hidebound
and overrun with hypocrisy. A man is judged by what he is--by the amount
of gray matter he has in his skull, by his character, and not by--not
by--well any little thing that he can't help, you know. I mean, well,
like