ce
you another thousand dollars--more, if you can get it. Why don't you do
that?"

Thankful did not answer. She had few secrets from Emily, whom she loved
as dearly as a daughter, but one secret she had kept. Just why she had
kept this one she might not have been able to explain satisfactorily,
even to herself. She had written Emily of her visit to Solomon Cobb's
"henhouse" and of the loan on mortgage which had resulted therefrom. But
she had neither written nor told all of the circumstances of that visit,
especially of Mr. Cobb's attitude toward her and his reluctance to lend
the money. She said merely that he had lent it and Emily had evidently
taken it for granted that the loan was made because of the relationship
and kindly feeling between the two. Thankful, even now, did not
undeceive her. She felt a certain shame in doing so; a shame in
admitting that a relative of hers could be so mean and disobliging.

"Why don't you go to Mr. Cobb again, Auntie?" repeated Emily. "He will
lend you more, I'm sure, if you explain all the circumstances. It would
be a perfectly safe investment for him, and you would pay interest, of
course."

Mrs. Barnes shook her head. "I don't think I'd better, Emily," she said.
"He's got one mortgage on this place already."

"What of it? That was only for fifteen hundred and you have improved the
house and grounds ever so much since then. I think he'll be glad to
let you have another thousand. The mortgage he has is to run for three
years, you said, didn't you?"

Again Thankful did not answer. She had not said the mortgage was for
a term of three years; Emily had presumed that it was and she had not
undeceived her. She hesitated, and Emily noticed her hesitation.

"It is for three years, isn't it, Auntie?" she repeated.

Mrs. Barnes tried to evade the question.

"Why, not exactly, Emily," she replied. "It ain't. You see, he thought
three years was a little mite too long, and so--and so we fixed up for a
shorter time. It's all right, though."

"Is it? You are sure? Aunt Thankful, tell me truly: how long a term is
that mortgage?"

"Well, it's--it's only for a year, but--"

"A year? Why, then it will fall due next spring. You can't pay that
mortgage next spring, can you?"

"I don't know's I can, but--but it'll be all right, anyhow. He'll renew
it, if I ask him to, I presume likely."

"Of course he will. He will have to. Auntie, you must go and see him at
once. If you don't I shall."