e amusement of the rest of
the family.

"Why, where's the new girl Jarvis brought you?" asked Hiram.

"She came from way back in the country, and, when she set the table, she
fixed five places. 'There's only four of us, Barbara,' said I. 'Yes,
Mrs. Ranger,' says she, 'four and me.' 'But how're you going to wait on
the table and sit with us?' says I, very kindly, for I step mighty soft
with those people. 'Oh, I don't mind bouncin' up and down,' says she; 'I
can chew as I walk round.' When I explained, she up and left in a huff.
'I'm as good as you are, Mrs. Ranger, I'd have you know,' she said, as
she was going, just to set Mary afire; 'my father's an independent
farmer, and I don't have to live out. I just thought I'd like to visit
in town, and I'd heard your folks well spoke of. I'll get a place in the
canning factory!' I wasn't sorry to have her go. You ought to have seen
the way she set the table!"

"We'll have to get servants from the East," said Arthur. "They know their
place a little better there. We can get some English that have just come
over. They're the best--thoroughly respectful."

He did not see the glance his father shot at him from under his heavy
eyebrows. But Adelaide did--she was expecting it. "Don't talk like a cad,
Artie!" she said. "You know you don't think that way."

"Oh, of course, I don't admire that spirit--or lack of it," he replied.
"But--what are you going to do? It's the flunkies or the Barbaras and
Marys--or doing our own work."

To Hiram Ranger that seemed unanswerable, and his resentment against his
son for expressing ideas for which he had utter contempt seemed
unreasonable. Again reason put him in the wrong, though instinct was
insisting that he was in the right.

"It's a pity people aren't contented in 'the station to which God has
called them,' as the English prayer book says," continued Arthur, not
catching sensitive Adelaide's warning frown.

"If your mother and I had been content," said Hiram, "you and Delia would
be looking for places in the canning factory." The remark was doubly
startling--for the repressed energy of its sarcasm, and because, as a
rule, Hiram never joined in the discussions in the family circle.

They were at the table, all except Mrs. Ranger. She had disappeared in
the direction of the kitchen and presently reappeared bearing a soup
tureen, which she set down before her husband. "I don't dare ask Mary to
wait on the table," said she. "If I did, she'