ou are a good woman, Salome, as good as any of your
race before you, and just as big a simpleton when your affections are
touched. A little more firmness on your part, a little less devotee sort
of worship of a--"

"Archibald, remember thee is speaking of what does not concern thee.
There is no need for rudeness, nor, indeed, 'legal' violence. Had I
understood, two years ago, that thee needed--needed--this old home for
thyself, I would have left it then. It has, of course, been to our
advantage to occupy it, but it has also been to thine. An empty house
goes swift to ruin. Everything here has been well cared for, as things
held in trust should be. We will leave here as soon as I can find a
house somewhere to shelter us."

Mrs. Kaye rose, as if to terminate the interview; but Mr. Wingate
cleared his throat and lifted his hand as if he had something further to
say.

"I suppose you have thought about this many times, Salome. What are your
plans?"

"They are not definite. House-hunting is the first, I suppose, since we
cannot do without a roof to cover us."

"How--I can't forget that we are kinsfolk, Salome--how do you propose to
live? I am a plain business man, as practical as--I mean, use common
sense. There are few houses to rent in this out-of-the-way town, where
everybody, except the mill folks, owns his own home,--and even some of
them do. I've come into possession of a house which might suit
you--'Hardscrabble.' I'll let you have it cheap."

"'Hardscrabble'! The 'Spite House'?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Archibald!"

"Exactly. I knew how it would strike you. We both know the story of the
place, but our grandfather's enemy took good care to make his tenement
comfortable inside, even if it was ugly as sin outside."

For a while Mrs. Kaye remained silent, debating with herself. Very soon
she was able to look up and smile gratefully.

"Thee knows as well as I what a stab thee has given my pride, Archibald;
but there is that saving 'common sense' in the offer, and love is
stronger than pride. Tell me what rent thee will ask, and I will take
the place if I can."

"Ten dollars a month."

The prompt, strictly business-like answer fairly startled its hearer.
Then she smiled again.

"I have never lived anywhere save at Fairacres, thee knows. I must trust
thee in the matter. I have no definite ideas about the values of houses,
but I think I can pay that. I must. There is nowhere else to go. Yes, I
will take it."

"It's