unty attorney and explained:
"She worried about that when it turned so cold last night. She said the
fire would go out and her jars might burst."

Mrs. Peters' husband broke into a laugh.

"Well, can you beat the women! Held for murder and worrying about her
preserves!"

The young attorney set his lips.

"I guess before we're through with her she may have something more
serious than preserves to worry about."

"Oh, well," said Mrs. Hale's husband, with good-natured superiority,
"women are used to worrying over trifles."

The two women moved a little closer together. Neither of them spoke. The
county attorney seemed suddenly to remember his manners--and think of
his future.

"And yet," said he, with the gallantry of a young politician, "for all
their worries, what would we do without the ladies?"

The women did not speak, did not unbend. He went to the sink and began
washing his hands. He turned to wipe them on the roller towel--whirled
it for a cleaner place.

"Dirty towels! Not much of a housekeeper, would you say, ladies?"

He kicked his foot against some dirty pans under the sink.

"There's a great deal of work to be done on a farm," said Mrs. Hale
stiffly.

"To be sure. And yet"--with a little bow to her--"I know there are some
Dickson County farm-houses that do not have such roller towels." He gave
it a pull to expose its full length again.

"Those towels get dirty awful quick. Men's hands aren't always as clean
as they might be."

"Ah, loyal to your sex, I see," he laughed. He stopped and gave her a
keen look. "But you and Mrs. Wright were neighbors. I suppose you were
friends, too."

Martha Hale shook her head.

"I've seen little enough of her of late years. I've not been in this
house--it's more than a year."

"And why was that? You didn't like her?"

"I liked her well enough," she replied with spirit. "Farmers' wives have
their hands full, Mr. Henderson. And then--" She looked around the
kitchen.

"Yes?" he encouraged.

"It never seemed a very cheerful place," said she, more to herself than
to him.

"No," he agreed; "I don't think any one would call it cheerful. I
shouldn't say she had the home-making instinct."

"Well, I don't know as Wright had, either," she muttered.

"You mean they didn't get on very well?" he was quick to ask.

"No; I don't mean anything," she answered, with decision. As she turned
a little away from him, she added: "But I don't think a place would be
any