't want you to stay here any more. I can't think of you living
alone any longer."

"So," he said, nonplussed, "that brings you?"

"Yes," she replied; "Won't you? Don't stay here."

"I have a good bed," he explained by way of apology for his
state.

"I know," she replied, "but we have a good home now and Vesta is
there. Won't you come? Lester wants you to."

"Tell me one thing," he demanded. "Are you married?"

"Yes," she replied, lying hopelessly. "I have been married a long
time. You can ask Lester when you come." She could scarcely look him
in the face, but she managed somehow, and he believed her.

"Well," he said, "it is time."

"Won't you come, papa?" she pleaded.

He threw out his hands after his characteristic manner. The urgency
of her appeal touched him to the quick. "Yes, I come," he said, and
turned; but she saw by his shoulders what was happening. He was
crying.

"Now, papa?" she pleaded.

For answer he walked back into the dark warehouse to get his
things.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

Gerhardt, having become an inmate of the Hyde Park home, at once
bestirred himself about the labors which he felt instinctively
concerned him. He took charge of the furnace and the yard, outraged at
the thought that good money should be paid to any outsider when he had
nothing to do. The trees, he declared to Jennie, were in a dreadful
condition. If Lester would get him a pruning knife and a saw he would
attend to them in the spring. In Germany they knew how to care for
such things, but these Americans were so shiftless. Then he wanted
tools and nails, and in time all the closets and shelves were put in
order. He found a Lutheran Church almost two miles away, and declared
that it was better than the one in Cleveland. The pastor, of course,
was a heaven-sent son of divinity. And nothing would do but that Vesta
must go to church with him regularly.

Jennie and Lester settled down into the new order of living with
some misgivings; certain difficulties were sure to arise. On the North
Side it had been easy for Jennie to shun neighbors and say nothing.
Now they were occupying a house of some pretensions; their immediate
neighbors would feel it their duty to call, and Jennie would have to
play the part of an experienced hostess. She and Lester had talked
this situation over. It might as well be understood here, he said,
that they were husband and wife. Vesta was to be introduced as
Jennie's daughter by her first mar