able to say that you
can't help it. Oh, Debbie, you have been a free woman--why, why didn't
you keep so?--but with all your freedom, and all your money, you don't
know the meaning of such luxury as I live in now."

Deb gazed at her sister's rapt face, glowing in the firelight, and
wondered if the brain behind it could be altogether sane.

"To call that HAPPINESS!" she ejaculated, with sad irony and scorn.

"If you must fix a name to it--yes," the widow considered thoughtfully.

"After all, 'unmiserable' does not go far enough. I AM happy. For,
Debbie"--turning to look into the dark, troubled eyes--"I'm clean
now--I never thought to be again--to know anything so exquisitely
sweet, either in earth or heaven--I'm clean, body and soul, day and
night, inside and outside, at last."

"Oh, POOR girl!" Deb moaned, with tears, when she realised what this
meant.

"Rich," corrected Mary--"rich, dear, with just a roof and a crust of
bread."

"Well," said Deb presently, "what about that roof and crust of bread?
Since we are telling each other everything, tell me what your resources
are. Don't say it is not my business; I know it isn't, but I shall be
wretched if you don't let me make it mine a little. How much have you?"

"I don't know. I don't care. I haven't given money a thought. It
doesn't matter."

"But it does matter. You can't even keep clean without a bathtub and a
bit of soap. But what am I thinking of?--of course, you will settle all
that with Bob."

The little word of three letters brought Mrs Goldsworthy down from her
clouds at once.

"Oh, no!" she cried quickly, almost fearfully. "On no account would I
interfere with his arrangements, his career. He would do everything
that was right and dutiful, I am sure, but I would sooner starve than
take charity from my own child. But there's no need to take it from
anybody. I have all I want."

"How much?"

"I couldn't tell you to a pound or two, but enough for my small wants."

"They do seem small, indeed. Where are you going to live? Won't you
come to me, Molly? Redford is big enough, and it's morally yours as
much as mine. You should have your own rooms--all the privacy you
like--"

"No, darling--thank you all the same. I have made my plans. I am going
to have a little cottage somewhere in the country, where there is no
dust, or smoke, or people--where I can walk on clean earth and grass,
and smell only trees and rain and the growing things. Alone? Oh, yes!