you."

Alida's only reply was a slight frown, for the remark suggested
disagreeable images and fancies. "Oh, how can I endure it?" she sighed.
She determined to let Jane plead her own cause at first, thinking that
perhaps this would be the safest way. If necessary, she would use her
influence against a hostile decision, let it cost in discomfort what it
might.

At a few moments before twelve the farmer came briskly toward the
house, and was evidently in the best of spirits. When he entered and
saw Jane, his countenance indicated so much dismay that Alida could
scarcely repress a smile. The child rose and stood before him like a
culprit awaiting sentence. She winked hard to keep the tears back, for
there was no welcome in his manner. She could not know how intensely
distasteful was her presence at this time, nor had Holcroft himself
imagined how unwelcome a third person in his house could be until he
saw the intruder before him. He had only felt that he was wonderfully
contented and happy in his home, and that Jane would be a constant
source of annoyance and restraint. Moreover, it might lead to
visitation from Mrs. Mumpson, and that was the summing up of earthly
ills. But the child's appearance and manner were so forlorn and
deprecating that words of irritation died upon his lips. He gravely
shook hands with her and then drew out the story which Alida had
learned.

"Why, Jane," he exclaimed, frowning, "Mr. Watterly will be scouring the
country for you. I shall have to take you back right after dinner."

"I kinder hoped," she sobbed, "that you'd let me stay. I'd stay in the
barn if I couldn't be in the house. I'd just as soon work outdoors,
too."

"I don't think you'd be allowed to stay," said the farmer, with a
sinking heart; "and then--perhaps your mother would be coming here."

"I can't stand mother no more'n you can" said the girl, through her set
teeth. "I oughtn'ter been born, for there's no place for me in the
world."

Holcroft looked at his wife, his face expressive of the utmost
annoyance, worry, and irresolution. Her glance was sympathetic, but
she said nothing, feeling that if he could make the sacrifice from his
own will he should have the chance. "You can't begin to know how much
trouble this may lead to, Jane," he resumed. "You remember how your
other threatened to take the law upon me, and it wouldn't be possible
for you to stay here without her consent."

"She oughter consent; I'll