them in a row, each occupant munching her cud contentedly and now and
then giving vent to a soft, self-satisfied low. From one of the stalls
could be heard the rhythmical squirt of milk against the milking-pail,
for David was engaged upon his evening work. On a rickety chair near
the hay-loft sat Janet, holding a timid little barn cat in her lap and
stroking it nervously. She was speaking in a voice that betrayed
considerable agitation.

"Well, I'm just going to leave it with you to decide, for I'm not
ready to do it myself. But it does seem to me that it's the chance of
a lifetime. It's just a question of whether I shall always stay on
here teaching district school, or see a little of the world and have a
chance to go on studying."

She stopped, and a moment of strained silence ensued, broken only by
the sound of the milking. David pressed his head against the flank of
the cow and choked back something in his throat. Then he managed to
speak.

"Of course, Janet," he said, with an attempt at composure. "I can see
how it must attract you--this opportunity of going off to college, and
I don't mean to put anything in your way. Such questions a person has
to decide for one's self, and I don't see how I can give you any
help."

"Yes, there you are again. You just won't say yes or no; but I am sure
all the time that you don't really want me to go. You'd like to keep
me here at home, just an ignorant, stupid country girl. Why don't you
want me to make something of myself, David? I know I've got ability,
and you know it as well as I do, but it isn't of any use to me here.
Wouldn't you feel proud of me if I went off and did something worth
while?"

David could not answer at once. He sat with his eyes shut, his knees
pressed rigidly against the pail, and against his head he felt the
warm, throbbing pulse of the animal in front of him. Upon his mind a
picture was forcing itself with cruel insistence. It was the Janet of
a year hence, well-dressed, sedate, intellectual, with all her new
college interests to talk of; and side by side with this he saw
himself--what would _he_ be? Just the same as ever, only a little more
awkward and out of date, and when he talked it would be of--yes, his
cows, and the new pig, and the price of potatoes! It was Loren who
would be suited to her then; it was they who would sit under the trees
together and the farmer could go about his chores. The impossibility
of her continuing to love him stru