etect symptoms in her husband which her own heart enabled her to
interpret. In brief, it looked as if he were drifting on a smooth,
swift tide to the same haven in which she was anchored.

One unusually warm morning for the season, rain set in after breakfast.
Holcroft did not fret in the least that he could not go to the fields,
nor did he, as had been his custom at first, find rainy-day work at the
barn. The cows, in cropping the lush grass, had so increased their
yield of milk that it was necessary to churn every other day, and Alida
was busy in the dairy. This place had become inviting by reason of its
coolness, and she had rendered it more so by making it perfectly clean
and sweet. Strange to say, it contained another chair besides the one
she usually occupied. The apartment was large and stone-flagged.
Along one side were shelves filled with rows of shining milk-pans. In
one corner stood the simple machinery which the old dog put in motion
when tied upon his movable walk, and the churn was near. An iron pipe,
buried deep in the ground, brought cool spring water from the brook
above. This pipe emptied its contents with a low gurgle into a shallow,
oblong receptacle sunk in the floor, and was wide and deep enough for
two stone crocks of ample size to stand abreast up to their rims in the
water. The cream was skimmed into these stone jars until they were
full, then Holcroft emptied them into the churn. He had charged Alida
never to attempt this part of the work, and indeed it was beyond her
strength. After breakfast on churning days, he prepared everything and
set the dog at work. Then he emptied the churn of the buttermilk when
he came in to dinner.

All the associations of the place were pleasant to Alida. It was here
that her husband had shown patience as well as kindness in teaching her
how to supplement his work until her own experience and judgment gave
her a better skill than he possessed. Many pleasant, laughing words
had passed between them in this cool, shadowy place, and on a former
rainy morning he had brought a chair down that he might keep her
company. She had not carried it back, nor was she very greatly
surprised to see him saunter in and occupy it on the present occasion.
She stood by the churn, her figure outlined clearly in the light from
the open door, as she poured in cold water from time to time to hasten
and harden the gathering butter. Her right sleeve was rolled well
back, reve