nd
on doin' for Mona'll be the best fer her in the long run, an' that is,
we take her away from here 'n' give her a chance in the world."

Mrs. Hutton looked at him in amazement, realizing not at all what he had
in mind.

"How can we do that?" she questioned.

"Thar's only one way," he answered hastily, with a now-or-never
determination; "I know I'm gittin' 'long in years 'n' one o' my legs
ain't workin' well, an' the only thing ye kin bank on, Letty, is my
heart's in the right place 'n' my feelin's toward ye hain't changed a
mite in forty year, an'--an' if ye're willin' to chance it, Letty, I'll
do all I kin to make ye happy."

A woman is seldom surprised by a proposal, but Mrs. Hutton was. For
fifteen years now, since she had been a widow, Jess had seemed like a
good brother, which in truth he had been in all ways, and never once
had she surmised he cared for a nearer kinship. Then, as she looked at
him, his kindly face aglow with earnest feeling, his keen eyes beneath
their shaggy eyebrows questioning her, for one instant her heart
quivered. Then backward over the flight of time her memory leaped, until
she saw herself a laughing, care-free girl once more, with life opening
before her, and this same good friend and brother, grateful for her
every word and smile of favor. Then, too, came a little nagging of
conscience at the way she had ignored him on his return, a limping hero,
and how he had never once reproached her for it. And following that, the
heaping of coals upon her head when he, coming to her rescue in the hour
of poverty and bereavement, had been the only friend she had to lean
upon. All the years of his tender thought and care, all his wise
counsel, all his unselfish giving, all his countless deeds of love and
forethought came back now in an instant, like a mighty wave of feeling,
sweeping all her pride and will before it. And as she bowed her face,
covering her eyes with one hand to hide the tears she could not control,
once more he spoke.

"Letty," he said, "ye needn't mind answerin' jist now. Think on't, an'
to-morrow or next day tell me. Thar ain't no need o' hurry. I've waited
quite a spell now, an' a day or two more won't matter."

"It's absurd," she said at last, when the tide of feeling ebbed, "and
everybody will say so."

"'Tain't their funeral or weddin' either, is it?" he answered. "An' mark
my words, Letty, thar's more on 'em here ez'll wish us well than ye
think."

But when he came