ess that you wouldn't take
yourself," said Paulina Maria.

Jerome flung out of the room without another word. When he got
out-of-doors, he found Adoniram at his elbow.

"I want ye to know that I'm much obliged to ye, J'rome," he
whispered. He felt for Jerome's hand and shook it. "Thank ye, thank
ye, J'rome," he repeated, brokenly.

"I don't want any thanks," replied Jerome. "Can't you take the money
and make Henry go with you to Boston and see the doctor, if she
won't?"

"It's no use goin' agin her, J'rome."

"I believe she's crazy."

"No, she ain't, J'rome--no, she ain't. She knows how you saved up
that money, an' she won't take it. She's made so she can't take
anybody else's sufferin' to ease hers, an' so's Henry--he's like his
mother."

"Can't you make her take it, Uncle Adoniram?"

"She can't make herself take it; but I'm jest as much obliged to ye,
J'rome."

Adoniram was about to re-enter the house. "She'll wonder where I be,"
he muttered, but Jerome stopped him. "If I do begin work on the mill
to-morrow," said he, "I sha'n't be able to fetch and carry to Dale,
nor to do as much work in Uncle Ozias's shop. Do you suppose you can
help out some?"

"I can, if I'm as well as I be now, J'rome."

"Of course, you can earn more than you do now," said Jerome. That was
really the errand upon which he had come to the Judds that evening.
He had been quite elated with the thought of the pleasure it would
give them, when the possibility of larger service--Henry's cure by
means of his cherished hoard--had suddenly come to him.

He arranged with Adoniram Judd that he should go to the shop the next
morning, then bade him good-night, and turned his own steps thither.

When he came in sight of Ozias Lamb's shop, its window was throwing a
long beam of light across the field creeping with dry grass before
the frosty wind. When Jerome opened the door, he started to see Ozias
seated upon his bench, his head bowed over and hidden upon his idle
hands. Jerome closed the door, then stood a moment irresolute,
staring at his uncle's dejected figure. "What's the matter, Uncle
Ozias?" he asked.

Ozias did not speak, but made a curious, repellent motion with his
bowed shoulders.

"Are you sick?"

Again Ozias seemed to shunt him out of the place with that speaking
motion of his shoulder.

Jerome went close to him. "Uncle Ozias, I want to know what is the
matter?" he said, then started, for suddenly Ozias raised his face
a