I, for one, am going back to work—in the kitchen, where I belong.

And—Well, if here ain't Jim at last," she broke off, as her younger

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brother-in-law appeared in the doorway.

"You're too late, pa, you're too late! It's all done," clamored Benny.

"They've got everything all settled."

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The man in the doorway smiled.

"I knew they would have, Benny; and I haven't been needed, I'm sure,—your mother's here."

Mrs. Harriet bridled, but did not look unpleased.

"But, say, Jim," breathed Miss Flora, "ain't it wonderful—ain't it perfectly wonderful?"

"It is, indeed,—very wonderful," replied Mr. Jim

A Babel of eager voices arose then, but Mr. Smith was not listening now. He was watching Mr. Jim's face, and trying to fathom its expression.

A little later, when the women had gone into the kitchen and Mr. Frank had clattered back to his work downstairs, Mr. Smith thought he had the explanation of that look on Mr. Jim's face. Mr. Jim and Beany were standing over by the fireplace together.

"Pa, ain't you glad—about the money?" asked Benny.

"I should be, shouldn't I, my son?"

"But you look—so funny, and you didn't say anything, hardly."