ow. Really, it may have been better for
Cornelius to have gone when he did, since we must all go sometime.
Indeed, it would have been better--only Jerusha Darby never knew
that--if Cornelius had gone before that discus-throw. Everything might
have been different if he had gone earlier. But he lost the opportunity
of his life to serve his wife by staying over and making one awkward
fling too many.

The June evening was cool after the long rains. Aunt Jerry had a tiny
wood fire burning in the parlor grate, and the tall lamps with the
rose-colored shades lighted to add a touch of twilight charm to the
place, when the young lovers came in.

"Aunt Jerry, we want to tell you what we have been talking about,"
Eugene began, when the three were seated together. "Jerry and I have
decided that we must look on life differently now since--" Eugene
hesitated.

"Yes, I know." Mrs. Darby spoke briskly. "We must face the truth now and
speak of Cornelius freely. He was fond of both of you. Poor Cornelius!"

"Poor Cornelius," Jerry Swaim repeated, under her breath.

"Of course I know it is difficult for a girl reared as Jerry has been--"
Eugene began again.

"She can go on living just as she has been. This will be her home
always," Mrs. Darby broke in, abruptly.

"And I know that I have nothing but the prospect of earning a living and
winning to a successful career in my line--" the young man went on.

"Hasn't Jerry the prospect of enough for herself? I'll need you to help
me for several months. You know, Eugene, that I must have some one who
understands Cornelius's way of doing things." There was more of command
than request in the older woman's voice.

"I'll be glad to help you as long as I am needed, but I am speaking now
of my life-work. When I cannot serve you any longer I must begin on my
own career. I have some hopes and plans for the future."

"Humph! What's the use of talking about it? I tell you Jerry will have
enough for all her needs, and I want you here. I shall not consider any
more such notions, Eugene. You are both going to stay right here as you
have done. Let's talk of something else."

"We can't yet, Aunt Jerry, because I have not enough for myself, even if
Gene would accept a living from you," Jerry Swaim declared.

Jerusha Darby opened her narrow eyes and stared at her niece. If the
older woman had made one plea of loneliness, if she had even hinted at
sorrow for the loss of the companion of her business