should go. Could it be that the Infinite Power had planned his life
for a certain end? That he had come into the world for something more
than daily toil, daily wages, and, at last, old age and death? Were his
mortal days a part of some great, immortal plan? A thrill of awe shook
the man as he caught a momentary vision of the majesty in a human life
that expresses a divine purpose. He had no words for thoughts like
these, and the silence lasted a long time. When he spoke, it was of
practical affairs.

"The club will have to meet with you one of these days, won't it?" he
asked.

"It meets with me the last of the month," said Sarah, trying to speak in
a matter-of-fact way.

David looked critically around the room. "This furniture's pretty
nice," he said, "but I don't know how it compares with other people's."

"The furniture's all right," said Sarah hastily. "Of course, this house
doesn't look like Mrs. Emerson's. Her parlor looked as if everything in
it had grown there and belonged there; this room looks as if we'd just
bought the things and put them here. Maybe after we've lived here a long
time, it'll look different, but there's no use tryin' to make my house
look like Mrs. Emerson's or Mrs. Morton's."

"Are your clothes as good as the other women's?" inquired David
solicitously.

"Suppose they're not," argued Sarah sturdily. "I'm not goin' to try to
dress like other women. My clothes suit me, and that's enough."

Sarah's sturdy independence pleased David, but like a good husband, he
wanted his wife to look as well as other women. "Oughtn't you to have
some jewelry, Sarah? Some rings and chains and--things of that sort?" he
added vaguely.

"David! David!" cried his wife half in anger, half in love. "Do you want
to make me a laughing stock? My hands are not the kind for rings; and
what would Molly and Annie say if they saw me wearin' jewelry? We've
got enough things between us and our old friends without jewelry.
Instead of rings, you can give me a check for the day nursery."

Sarah was rolling up her work now and smiling softly. "Two weeks ago,"
she said, "it seemed as if everything was in a tangle just like this
worsted gets sometimes. But I've picked and pulled and twisted, you
might say, till I've straightened it out. You see, David, there's some
things you can't understand till you get 'way off from them. As long as
I was in this house, I thought I was out of place, but I hadn't been in
the cottage long,