d don't seem ready yet," she
said.

"I'm not ready," Festing replied, and stopped abruptly. "Very sorry; I
forgot all about it," he resumed.

Helen made a gesture of annoyance. She had invited some of their
neighbors to supper and had spent the day preparing the feast. Things,
however, had gone wrong; the stove had got too hot and spoiled her
choicest dishes.

"You forgot!" she exclaimed. "It really isn't often I trouble you with
guests."

"That's lucky, because I haven't much time for entertaining people. I'm
overworked just now."

Helen hesitated because she was afraid she might say too much. She
admired his persevering industry, but had begun to feel that he was
slipping away from her and devoting himself to his farm. Sometimes she
indulged an angry jealousy, and then tried to persuade herself it was
illogical.

"Then why give yourself another task by building the bridge?" she asked.

"I tried to explain that. I can get the thing done with less trouble
when the creek is nearly dry, and if we had to use the ford when hauling
out the grain, it would mean starting with a light load or keeping a
team of horses there. When I've built the bridge and graded back the
road we can take the full number of bags across, and that makes for
economy. It looks as if I'll have to be severely economical soon."

Helen colored. She thought he did not mean to vex her, but he had
ventured on dangerous ground.

"You know that what is mine is yours," she said.

"In a way, it is, but I put all my capital into the stock and crop, and
must try to get it back. I can't ask my wife for money if I loaf about
and lose my own."

"You don't loaf," Helen rejoined. "But if you lose your crop from causes
you can't prevent happening, there is no reason you shouldn't accept my
help."

"I know you're generous and would give me all you had but--"

Helen shook her head. "You don't see the matter in the right way yet;
but we'll let it go. Get your jacket and come back at once."

"Must I come?" Festing asked irresolutely.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I don't think so. Can't you tell the folks I'd forgotten and started
something I must finish?"

"I can't," said Helen sharply. "It hurts to know you had forgotten. The
farm is lonely and I haven't many friends; but I can't tell outsiders
how little that matters to you."

"I'm sorry," Festing answered with some embarrassment. "Still I think
you're exaggerating; nobody would look at it like that. O