be I'll be more of
a real person doing that than anything else I know. But this road
business is a necessary thing. Bloomfield needs a good road--all the
way into the city. Something to put her on the map. Maybe with a good
road we can get somewhere." Speaking out the idea seemed to
crystallize it. He began to enthuse a little over it inwardly.
"Mightn't be so bad. Might buy back the old place even, some day.
Jenkins is not makin' too much speed with it, I hear."

Mary Louise leaned forward toward him.

"Oh, Joe, I wish you would," she said. "I've been thinking a lot here
lately and it seems to me it's just as essential for real men to
settle and live in places like Bloomfield as anywhere else. Big people
should spread their influence. Why should they all cluster in little
knots and bunches like the cities? I think there's a better chance to
grow--here. I really do." She turned away and sat with her chin on her
hands, her face averted.

Joe, carried momentarily away with the thought, did not notice her
agitation; moreover, it was quite dark in the summerhouse, with only
odds and ends of moonlight slipping through the roof. And he did not
answer her, but sat thinking.

"I'm going to," she continued after a bit, her voice sounding somewhat
broken and muffled against her open hand.

"Goin' to what?"

"Going to stay here and see what I can make out of it."

She was groping for his friendship and he did not know it. A new line
of thought had been stimulated and it brought up very pleasing
pictures. After all, what could be better than a respectable life on a
farm producing things, seeing the direct results of the work of his
own hands, establishing his very own identity? By contrast, how much
better than working for someone else, furnishing the effort while
someone else worked out the plans, losing his identity completely in
an economic machine? He could start modestly, pay off as he went, out
of the profits. And meantime, he could be living--real life. Only
first he must get a little money to make a start on.

He realized Mary Louise had spoken, paused in his thought and then
remembered. "Oh--yeah. Don't know but what it's about the best thing
to do. Might try it myself--soon's I can get enough money together."

She made no reply and he watched her dim profile. Her head drooped
quite dejectedly. There was a little splash of moonlight on her cheek;
tendrils of her hair curled about the line of her neck. "She's had