trengthening into a purpose which he
could not overcome. It seemed to him that every flutelike note of a
bird in the pleasance outside served to make this purpose more
unassailable, as if every sweet flower-breath and every bee-hum,
every drawing of his wife's shining needle through the white garment
which she was mending, all served to render his purpose so settled a
thing that any change in it was as impossible as growth in a granite
ledge. That very day Henry had been approached by the superintendent
of Lawson & Fisher's, where he had worked, and told that his place,
which had been temporarily filled, was vacant and ready for him. He
had said that he must consider the matter, but he had known in his
heart that the matter admitted of no consideration. He looked gloomy
as he sat there with his unread book in his hand, yet gradually an
eager, happy light crept into his eyes.

After supper he told Sylvia he was going down to the store. He did
go, but on his way he stopped at the superintendent's house and told
that he would report for work in the morning.

Rose had not come down to supper. Henry had wondered why, and
sympathized in part with Sylvia's anxiety. Still, he had a vague
feeling that a young girl's not coming down to supper need not be
taken very seriously, that young girls had whims and fancies which
signified nothing, and that it was better to let them alone until
they got over them. He knew that Sylvia, however, would take the
greatest comfort in coddling the girl, and he welcomed the fact as
conducing to his making his arrangements for the next day. He thought
that Sylvia would not have the matter in mind at all, since she had
the girl to fuss over, and that she would not ask him any questions.
On his way home he stopped at Sidney Meeks's. He found the lawyer in
a demoralized dining-room, which had, nevertheless, an air of homely
comfort, with its chairs worn into hollows to fit human anatomies,
and its sideboard set out with dusty dishes and a noble ham. Meeks
was a very good cook, although one could not confidently assert that
dust and dirt did not form a part of his ingredients. One of his
triumphs was ham cooked in a manner which he claimed to have
invented. After having been boiled, it was baked, and frequently
basted in a way which Meeks kept as secret as the bouquet of his
grape wine. Sidney sat at the table eating bread and ham spread with
mustard, and there were also a mysterious pie in reserve a