re in
which you take pleasure?"

Lois looked round. "Yes," she said simply. "I find something everywhere
to take pleasure in."

"Even at Shampuashuh?"

"At Shampuashuh, of course. That is my home."

"But I never take pleasure in anything at home. It is all such an old
story. Every day is just like any other day, and I know beforehand
exactly how everything will be; and one dress is like another, and one
party is like another. I must go away from home to get any real
pleasure."

Lois wondered if she succeeded.

"That's a nice look-out for you, George," Caruthers remarked.

"I shall know how to make home so agreeable that she will not want to
wander any more," said the other.

"That is what the women do for the men, down our way," said Lois,
smiling. She began to feel a little mischief stirring.

"What sort of pleasures do you find, or make, at home, Miss Lothrop?"
Julia went on. "You are very quiet, are you not?"

"There is always one's work," said Lois lightly. She knew it would be
in vain to tell her questioner the instances that came up in her
memory; the first dish of ripe strawberries brought in to surprise her
grandmother; the new potatoes uncommonly early; the fine yield of her
raspberry bushes; the wonderful beauty of the early mornings in her
garden; the rarer, sweeter beauty of the Bible reading and talk with
old Mrs. Armadale; the triumphant afternoons on the shore, from which
she and her sisters came back with great baskets of long clams; and
countless other visions of home comfort and home peace, things
accomplished and the fruit of them enjoyed. Miss Caruthers could not
understand all this; so Lois answered simply,

"There is always one's work."

"Work! I hate work," cried the other woman. "What do you call work?"

"Everything that is to be done," said Lois. "Everything, except what we
do for mere pleasure. We keep no servant; my sisters and I do all that
there is to do, in doors and out."

"_Out_--of--doors!" cried Miss Caruthers. "What do you mean? You cannot
do the farming?"

"No," said Lois, smiling merrily; "no; not the farming. That is done by
men. But the gardening I do."

"Not seriously?"

"Very seriously. If you will come and see us, I will give you some new
potatoes of my planting. I am rather proud of them. I was just thinking
of them."

"Planting potatoes!" repeated the other lady, not too politely. "Then
_that_ is the reason why you find it a pleasure to sit here and se