"It's worse than that," the girl spoke up; "it's almost a crime. We don't want you to fret your life out for us. If we are to have anything we want you to share it. You haven't seen anything but worry since you took out the policy. Let it drop. The money you'd have to give for the next payment would make us happy. We could get so many nice things with it, and wouldn't feel ashamed every time a visitor comes into the house. Do, pa." She put her hand on his arm and looked at him appealingly. He shook his head. "A crime, you say. Then let us acknowledge it a crime. But let us also acknowledge that it is not so dark a crime as it is for a man to die and leave his family in distress. Look at Norwood; look at Bracken. The neighbors had to contribute." "But you aren't going to die yet a while," said his wife. "You are in good health. Well, there's no two ways about it. I'm going to throw that old sofa out into the yard. I've stood it as long as I can. It's the first thing a stranger sees when he comes into the house." "And I imagine that people stop just to look in at it," Katherine spoke up. "We might label it as having been the property of some great man," said the Professor. "Oh, I know it's a joke with you, but it's not with us," his wife retorted. "I don't see any fun in a disgrace." "Have you no respect for the aged?" he asked, trying to wink at his daughter, but she would not accept it. "Let us trail a vine about it and call it a ruined mill." "That's a stab at me, mother," said the girl. "I am not permitted to have a sentiment." "Well, I don't want any; I've had enough," the mother replied. "It's sentiment, sentiment ever since I can remember, and I'm sick of it." "You want poetry, my dear," said the Professor. "Or at least you set store by it, for didn't you give Tennyson to the preacher?" "I don't care if I did, I'm going to throw that old thing out. Wesley, when is your insurance due?" "It is paid, madam, thanks be to the Lord. I sent the money off yesterday." "Why didn't you tell me you were going to send it?" "Oh, it was a mere trifle, and I forgot it." "For pity sake! And where did you get the money?" "I combed it out of the grass." "Well, you'd better comb out some for us while you are combing. I've lived this way till I'm tired of it. Where did you get that money?" "The grass was thick, and the grass was long, and the comb pulled heavy and slow." "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. That's all I've got to say." "I'm afraid not." "I'll talk just as much as I please." "I'm afraid so. But let us all be cheerful now. Yesterday it was dark and misty, and now the sun is bright. Here, mamma, kiss me to my labor. I haven't drawn at the weak sinews of my feeble salary, and you shall have enough to buy a new sofa." "That's a good dear," she said, kissing him. "Don't let what I said worry you. I didn't mean it."