picture that would suit me better than the one I saw in town."

"What nonsense!" she cried, quickly averting her face from his admiring
scrutiny. "Come, I'm here to talk business and you've no time to waste. I've
made out a list of what the child actually must have to be respectable."

"You're right, Alida," said the farmer, becoming grave at once over a question
of dollars and cents. "As you say, one thing leads to another, and if we take
the girl we must clothe her decently. But then, I guess she'll earn enough to
pay her way. It isn't that I worry about so much," he broke out
discontentedly, "but the interference with our quiet, cozy life. Things are
going so smoothly and pleasantly that I hate a change of any kind."

"We mustn't be selfish, you know," she replied. "You are doing a kind,
generous act, and I respect you all the more for it."

"That settles everything. You'll like me a little better for it, too, won't
you?" he asked hesitatingly.

She laughed outright at this question and answered, "It won't do to take too
much self-sacrifice out of your act. There's something which does us all
good. She ought to have a spelling and a writing book also."

Holcroft was assuredly falling under the sway of the little blind god, for he
began at once to misunderstand Alida. "You are very fond of self-sacrifice,"
he said, rather stiffly. "Yes, I'll get everything on your list," and he took
it from her hand. "Now I must be off," he added, "for I wish to get back
before night, and it's so warm I can't drive fast. Sorry I have to go, for I
can't say I dote on self-sacrifice."