s sitting near the spot
where he spent that long forenoon a few Sundays before, and the train
of thought came back again. In his deep abstraction, he almost forgot
the woman near him in memories of the past.

His old love and lost faith were inseparable from that little white
spire in the distance.

Alida stole a glance at him and thought, "He's thinking of her," and
she quietly strolled away to look for wild flowers.

"Yes," muttered Holcroft, at last. "I hope Bessie knows. She'd be the
first one to say it was right and best for me, and she'd be glad to
know that in securing my own home and comfort I had given a home to the
homeless and sorrowful--a quiet, good woman, who worships God as she
did."

He rose and joined his wife, who held toward him a handful of trailing
arbutus, rue anemones, bloodroot, and dicentras. "I didn't know they
were so pretty before," he said with a smile.

His smile reassured her for it seemed kinder than any she had yet
received, and his tone was very gentle. "His dead wife will never be my
enemy," she murmured. "He has made it right with her in his own
thoughts."

Chapter XXIV.

Given Her Own Way

On Monday the absorbing work of the farm was renewed, and every day
brought to Holcroft long and exhausting hours of labor. While he was
often taciturn, he evidently progressed in cheerfulness and hope.
Alida confirmed his good impressions. His meals were prompt and
inviting; the house was taking on an aspect of neatness and order long
absent, and his wardrobe was put in as good condition as its rather
meager character permitted. He had positively refused to permit his
wife to do any washing and ironing. "We will see about it next fall,"
he said. "If then you are perfectly well and strong, perhaps, but not
in the warm weather now coming on." Then he added, with a little nod,
"I'm finding out how valuable you are, and I'd rather save you than the
small sum I have to pay old Mrs. Johnson."

In this and in other ways he showed kindly consideration, but his mind
continually reverted to his work and outdoor plans with the
preoccupation of one who finds that he can again give his thoughts to
something from which they had been most reluctantly withdrawn. Thus
Alida was left alone most of the time. When the dusk of evening came
he was too tired to say much, and he retired early that he might be
fresh for work again when the sun appeared. She had no regrets, for
although she kept bus