still fell heavily. Occasionally the clouds would
lighten for a moment as they frequently do in the hills; but the rain
was still behind them and _would_ burst through.

"Come, Mr. Drugg," said Janice, more softly. "Let me show you what I
mean. You can't really expect folks to come here and trade when they
can scarcely see through the windows----"

"Yes, yes," he murmured. "I _had_ ought to clean up a bit."

"More than that!" she cried. "You want to have a regular
overhauling--take account of stock, and all that--know what you've
got--arrange your goods attractively--get rid of the flies--put on
fresh paint----"

He was looking at her with wide-open eyes. "My soul!" he breathed.
"How'd I ever git around to doin' all _that_?"

"You love little Lottie, don't you?" Janice demanded, with sudden
cruelty. "I should think you'd be willing to do something for her!"

"What do you mean?" and a little snap, which delighted Janice, suddenly
came into Drugg's tone.

"Just what I say, Mr. Drugg. You _speak_ as though you loved her."

"And who says I don't?"

"Your actions."

"My actions? What do you mean by that?" and the man flushed more
deeply than before.

"I mean if you truly loved her, and longed to get her to Boston and to
the surgeons, and the school there, it seems to me you'd be willing to
work hard to that end."

"You show me--" he began, wrathfully, but she interrupted with:

"Now, wait! Let me have my way for an hour here, will you? I want you
to go back to Lottie and do up the housework; I see your breakfast
dishes are still unwashed. Leave me alone here and let me do as I like
for an hour."

"You mean to clean up?" he asked, gazing about the store hopelessly.

"Something like that. It rains so hard I can't get to school. I'll
visit with you, Mr. Drugg," said Janice smiling and her voice cheerful
again. "And instead of helping about the housework, I'll help in the
store. _Do_ let me, sir!"

"Why--yes--I don't mind. I guess you mean right enough, Miss Janice.
But you don't understand----"

"Give me an hour," she cried.

"Why, yes, Miss," he said, in his old, gentle, polite way. "If you
want to mess about I won't mind. Come in and I'll give you a big long
apron that will cover your frock all over. It--it's dreadful dusty in
here."

Janice would not be discouraged. She smiled cheerfully at him, found
brush, pan, broom, pail, and cloths, and with some hot water and
soap-powder w