t, he heard Amanda Holmes's abundant skirts
sweeping down the stairway. He could not help hearing the conversation
that followed:

"You see, Janet, I got up this trip to-night to keep John from spending
the evening in the kitchen. He hasn't a bit of dignity, and would spend
the evening romping with the children and talking to Huldah if he took
it into his head."

"Well," said Janet, "one can overlook everything in a man of your
brother's culture. But what a queer way your country servants have of
pushing themselves! Wouldn't I make them know their places!"

And all this was said with the kitchen door open, and with the
intention of wounding Huldah.

John's castles tumbled. The erudite wife alongside the silver tea urn
faded out of sight rapidly. If knowledge could not give a touch of
humane regard for the feelings of a poor girl toiling dutifully and
self-denyingly to support her family, of what account was it?

Two minutes before he was about to give his life to Janet Dunton. Now
there was a gulf wider than the world between them. He slipped out of
the best room by the outside door and came in through the kitchen. The
neighbor's sleigh that was to call for them was already at the door,
and John begged them to excuse him. He had set his heart on helping
Huldah make mince pies, as he used to help his mother when a boy. His
sister was in despair, but she did not say much. She told John that it
was time he was getting over his queer freaks. And the sleigh drove
off.

For an hour afterward John romped with his sister's children and told
stories to the boys and talked to his father. When a man has barely
escaped going over a precipice he does not like to think too much about
it. John did not.

At last the little children went to bed. The old gentleman grew sleepy,
and retired. The boys went into the sitting room and went to sleep, one
on the lounge and one on the floor. Huldah was just ready to begin her
pies. She was deeply hurt, but John succeeded in making her more
cheerful. He rolled up his sleeves and went to rolling out the pastry.
He thought he had never seen a sweeter picture than the young girl in
clean dress and apron, with her sleeves rolled above her elbows. There
was a statuesque perfection in her well-rounded arms. The heat of the
fire had flushed her face a little, and she was laughing merrily at
John's awkward blunders in pie-making. John was delighted, he hardly
knew why. In fixing a pie crust his f