that her brother was finding a measure of enjoyment
in the situation, so far as his dealings with her were concerned. He was
more independent than he had been since she took him in charge. But she
realized, too, her own impotence. She could not drive him too hard or
he might be driven into marrying Imogene. And THAT Hannah was determined
should be deferred as long as possible.

So she said no more concerning the "ride" and merely showed her feelings
by moping in the corner and wiping her eyes with her handkerchief
whenever he looked in her direction. After he had gone she spent the
half-hour previous to Mr. Hammond's arrival in alternate fits of rage
and despair.

"So Kenelm's been actin' unlikely, has he?" queried Caleb. "Well, if
he was my brother he'd soon come to time quick, or be put to bed in a
hospital. That's what would happen to HIM."

Miss Parker looked as if the hospital picture was more appealing than
dreadful.

"I wish he was your brother," she said. "Or I wish I was independent and
had a house of my own."

"Huh! Gosh! So do I wish I had one. I've been wishin' it all the
mornin'. If I had a home of my own I'd have what I wanted to eat--yes,
and wear. And I'd have 'em when I wanted 'em, too."

"Don't they give you good things to eat over at Mrs. Barnes'?"

"Oh, they're good enough maybe, if they're what you want. But boardin's
boardin'; 'tain't like your own home."

"Caleb, it's a wonder to me you don't rent a little house and live in
it. You've got money enough; least so everybody says."

"Humph! What everybody says is 'most generally lies. What would be the
sense of my hirin' a house? I'd have to have a housekeeper and a good
one costs like thunder. A feller's wife has to get along on what he
gives her, but a housekeeper--"

He stopped short, seemingly struck by a new and amazing idea. Miss
Parker rambled on about the old days when "dear papa" was alive;
how happy she was then, and so on, with occasional recourse to the
handkerchief. Suddenly Caleb slapped his knee.

"It's all right," he said. "It's fine--and it's commonsense, too.
Hannah, what's the matter with you and me gettin' married?"

Hannah stared at him.

"Married!" she repeated. "Me get married! Who to, for the land sakes?
Are you out of your head?"

"Not a mite. What's the matter with you marryin' me?"

"My soul! Is this a funny-paper joke, or are you--"

"'Tain't a joke; I mean it. Is there any reason why we shouldn't marry