between times. They let me have all the books I wanted to read.” She looked lovingly at her few precious school-books. “I haven’t touched these since I got back — we’re that busy.”

Then she resumed her work about the house, cooking at the fireplace, waiting upon David, and serving her mother, while directing Hoyle what to do, should she be detained that night. He demurred and hung about her, begging her not to stay.

“I won’t, son, without I can’t help it. You won’t care so much now — mother’s not bad like she was.”

“Yas, I will,” he mourned.

“I reckon I’ll have to call you ‘baby’ again,” said his mother.