It means for you only the profits on one real
estate deal or one case of Joe Calvin's in the Federal Court, where you
can still divide the fees. But, Tom--the Adamses have given
themselves--all they have--themselves. It's a very inspiring thing; I
feel that it must affect men in this town to see that splendid faith."

"Laura," he answered testily, "why do you still keep up that foolish
enthusiasm for perfectly unreasonable things? There was no sense in the
Adamses giving that way. It was a foolish thing to do, when the old man
is practically on the town. His paper is a joke. Sooner or later we will
all have to make up this gift a dollar at a time and take care of him."

He turned to his law book. "Besides, if you come to that--it's money
that talks and if you want to get excited, get excited over my two
thousand. It will do more good than their fifteen hundred--at least five
hundred dollars more. And that's all there is to it."

Her face twitched with pain. Then from some depths of her soul she
hailed him impulsively:

"Tom, I don't believe that, and I don't believe you do, either--it isn't
the good the money does those who receive; it's the good it does the
giver. And the good it does the giver is measured by the amount of
sacrifice--the degree of himself that he puts into it--can't you
understand, Tom? I'd give my soul if you could understand."

"Well, I can't understand, Laura," impatiently; "that's your father's
sentimental side. Of all the fool things," the Judge slapped the book
sheet viciously, "that the old man has put into your head--sentiment is
one of the foolest. I tell you, Laura, money talks. There are ten
languages spoken in South Harvey, and money talks in all of them, and
one dollar does as much as another, and that's all there is to it."

She rose with a little sigh. "Well," she said gently, "we won't
quarrel." The wife looked intently at the husband, and in that flash of
time from beneath her consciousness came renewed strength. Something
primeval--the eternal uxorial upon which her whole life rested,
possessed her and she smiled, and touched her husband's thick, black
hair gently. For she felt that if the spiritual ties for the moment had
failed them, she must pick up some other tie. She was the nest builder
indomitable. If the golden thread should drop--there is the string--the
straw--the horse hair--the twig. So Laura Van Dorn picked up an appeal
to her husband's affections and continued her p