driven to desperation. "What's she ever done for me but teach me mean ways?
Keep me or kill me, for I must be in some place where I've a right to be away
from mother. I've found that there's no sense in her talk, and it drives me
crazy."

Although Jane's words and utterance were strangely uncouth, they contained a
despairing echo which the farmer could not resist. Turning his troubled face
to his wife, he began, ""If this is possible, Alida, it will be a great deal
harder on you than it will on me. I don't feel that I would be doing right by
you unless you gave your consent with full knowledge of--"

"Then please let her stay, if it is possible. She seems to need a friend and
home as much as another that you heard about."

"There's no chance of such a blessed reward in this case," he replied, with a
grim laugh. Then, perplexed indeed, he continued to Jane, "I'm just as sorry
for you as I can be, but there's no use of getting my wife and self in trouble
which in the end will do you no good. You are too young to understand all
that your staying may lead to."

"It won't lead to mother's comin' here, and that's the worst that could
happen. Since she can't do anything for me she's got to let me do for
myself."

"Alida, please come with me in the parlor a moment. You stay here, Jane."
When they were alone, he resumed, "Somehow, I feel strangely unwilling to have
that child live with us. We were enjoying our quiet life so much. Then you
don't realize how uncomfortable she will make you, Alida."

"Yes, I do."