ere I might be appreciated."

"_I_ appreciate you, Serena."

Serena ignored the remark. "I wish we had never settled here," she went
on. "I'd leave in a minute, if I could. I'd like to be in with nice
people, cultivated people, intelligent, up-to-date society, where I
could have a chance to go on and be somebody. I'd like to be a leader.
I could be. Annette says I would be in a city like Scarford. She says I
'have the faculty of the born leader.' All I lack is the opportunity."

Her husband sighed. He had heard all this before. Inwardly he wished
Mrs. Black at Scarford, or China, or anywhere, provided it was not
Trumet.

His wife heard the sigh. "There, Daniel," she said; "I won't be
complaining. I try not to be. But," she hesitated, "there is one thing
I'd like to ask, now that we've got your Aunt Lavinia's three thousand:
Don't you suppose I could have some new clothes; I need at least two
dresses right away."

"Why--why, I guess likely you could, Serena. Yes, course you can. You go
see Sarah Loveland right off."

Miss Loveland was the Trumet dressmaker. At the mention of her name
Serena shook her head.

"I don't want Sarah to make them, Daniel," she said. "Mrs. Black says
the things she makes are awful old-fashioned; 'country,' she calls
them."

Daniel snorted. "I want to know!" he exclaimed. "Well, I remember her
husband when his ma used to make his clothes out of his dad's old
ones. I don't know whether they was 'country' or not, but they were the
dumdest things ever _I_ saw. Country, huh! Scarford ain't any Paris, is
it? I never heard it was."

"Well, it isn't Trumet. No, Daniel, if we could afford it, I'd like to
have these dresses made up in Boston, where Gertie gets hers. Mrs. Black
often speaks of Gertie's gowns; she says they are remarkably stylish,
considering."

"CONSIDERIN'! What does she mean by that?"

"Don't be cross. I suppose she meant considering that they were not
as expensive as her own. DO you suppose I could go to that Boston
dressmaker, Daniel?"

Captain Dan's reply was slow in coming. He hated to say no; in fact, he
said it so seldom that he scarcely knew how. So he temporized.

"Well, Serena," he began, "I--I'd like to have you; you know that. If
'twasn't for the cost I wouldn't hesitate a minute."

"But we have that three thousand dollars."

"Well, we ain't got all of it. Or we shan't have it long. I was footin'
up what I owed--what the store owes, I mean--just now, and it