should bring about such sorrow as this, yet the
thought of Jinnie and what he wanted her to be proved a greater
argument with him than the grief of her family.

"I've told you, sir," Lafe repeated, "and I say again, my wife and me
don't want to stand in our girl's light. She'll decide when she comes
home."

Theodore got up, placing Bobbie on his feet beside him.

"I hope she'll think favorably of my idea, then," said he, "and
to-morrow I'll see her and make some final arrangements."

After he had gone, Peggy and Lafe sat for a long time without a word.

"Go to the kitchen, Bobbie," said Mrs. Grandoken presently, "and give
Happy Pete a bit of meat."

The boy paused in his stumbling way to the kitchen.

"I don't want my Jinnie to go away," he mumbled.

When the door closed on the blind child, Peggy shook her shoulders
disdainfully.

"She'll go, of course," she sneered.

"An' we can't blame 'er if she does, Peg," answered Lafe sadly. "She's
young yet, an' such a chance ain't comin' every day."

The woman got heavily to her feet.

"I hate 'er, but the house's dead when she ain't in it," and she went
rapidly into the other room.

Jinnie came into the shop wearily, but one look at the cobbler brought
her to a standstill. She didn't wait to take off her hat before going
directly to him.

"Lafe--Lafe dear, you're sick. Why, honey dear----"

"I ain't very well, Jinnie darlin'. Would you mind askin' Peggy to
come in a minute?"

Mrs. Grandoken looked up as the girl came in.

"Lafe wants you, Peg. He's sick, isn't he? What happened to him,
Peggy?"

Bobbie uttered a whining cry.

"Jinnie," he called, "Jinnie, come here!"

Peg pushed the girl back into the little hall.

"You shut up, Bobbie," she ordered, "and sit there! Jinnie'll come
back in a minute."

Then the speaker shoved the girl ahead of her into the shop and stood
with her arms folded, austerely silent.

"I want to know what's the matter," insisted Jinnie.

"You tell 'er, Peg. I just couldn't," whispered Lafe.

Mrs. Grandoken drew a deep breath and ground her teeth.

"You've got to go away, kid," she began tersely, dropping into a
chair.

Jinnie blanched in fright.

"My uncle!" she exclaimed, growing weak-kneed.

"No such thing," snapped Peg. "You're goin' to a fine school an' learn
how to be a elegant young lady."

"Who said so?" flashed Jinnie.

"Mr. King," cut in Lafe.

Then Jinnie understood, and she laughed hysterically. For