"He certainly would not ask us to be responsible for his money till we can use it," she observed, in an injured tone, to her daughter. One would have supposed from her attitude that an imposition was being put upon her, though she, herself, being accustomed to bear the burdens of others, would bow her neck beneath this yoke and accept the responsibility of Dic's money. She not only convinced herself that such was the proper view to take of the transaction, but succeeded fairly well in impressing even Rita with that belief. Such an achievement required generalship of the highest order; but Mrs. Bays possessed that rare quality to a degree seldom, if ever, equalled. The loan was to bear no interest, Dic hoping to heighten the sense of obligation in Mr. Bays. He succeeded; but of course the important member of the family still felt that Dic was beholden to her. She could not, however, with either safety or justice, exclude from her house the man who was to lend the much-needed money. While she realized the great favor she was conferring on Dic, and fully understood the nature of the burden she was taking upon herself solely for his sake, she had no thought of shrinking from her duty;--not she. The money had not been delivered, and Dic, if offended, might change his mind and foolishly refuse her sacrifice. It might not be entirely safe to presume too largely upon his sense of obligation--some persons are devoid of gratitude--until the money was in hand. For these reasons Dic was tolerated, and during the next ten days spent his evenings with Rita, though mother and father Bays did not migrate to the kitchen, in accordance with well-established usage on Blue, and as they had done when Williams came a-wooing. Dic cared little for the infringement, and felt that old times had come again. Rita, growing bold, braved her mother's wrath, and continued each evening to give him a moment of his own. One evening it would be a drink from the well that she wanted. Again, it was a gourdful of shell-barks from the cellar under the kitchen, whence she, of course, was afraid to fetch them alone. The most guileless heart will grow adroit under certain well-known conditions; and even Rita, the simplest of girls, easily made opportunities to give Dic these little moments from which she came back rosy, while that lucky young man was far from discontented. Rita paid each evening for Dic's moment when the door closed on him, and continued payment during the next day till his return. But she considered the moment a great bargain at the price, continued her purchases, and paid the bills on demand to incarnate Justice. The bills were heavy, and had not Rita been encased by an armor of trusty steel, wrought from the links of her happiness, her soft, white form would have been pierced through and through by the tough, ashen shafts of her mother's relentless cruelty.