“Oh, I could have worked, Cleve. But I didn’t know! I didn’t know! I thought you were rich. And I thought, sometimes, that you were too prudent, too saving, especially when you did not get a dress coat to go to Ran’s wedding. And all the time you were poor, and struggling on the very brink of ruin! Oh, Cleve!” “Never mind, dear heart, we are ready for the landlord, or for any other demand. Tell me, darling, shall you like to go to this mountain farmhouse in West Virginia, and keep house for the old man, and be mistress, doctress, teacher and everything, to his horde of darkies?” “Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes—a thousand times, yes! I shall be delighted, Cleve!” “Very well, then. As it all depended upon you, I will answer the old man’s letter and accept his offer; then go out and change this check.” “No, no; first of all, dear Cleve,” said Palma, gravely, “let us kneel and return thanks to our Heavenly Father that we are saved.” CHAPTER XIII SAFE AT HOME We left Jennie Montgomery sleeping in her mother’s arms, with her babe safe beside them. Jennie would have talked all night till broad daylight; but her mother, knowing how tired the young traveler must be, discouraged all conversation by pretending to be sleepy, by replying only in monosyllables, or even answering at random, until at length the talker herself gave up in despair, grew tired, then stupid, and then fell fast asleep. The consequence of her exhausted strength and her long vigil was that she slept long and deeply and late into the next morning. When at last she awoke she found herself alone in the room, with the morning sunlight stealing through the slats of the window shutters, and gilding bright lines on the white window curtains and on the light gray ground of the carpet and the light gray color of the walls. She saw all this through the festooned white curtains at the foot of her bed. She raised herself up, and then she saw something through the same opening—a bright little coal fire burning in the grate. Her mother was gone and her baby was gone. Evidently Jennie had slept so soundly that she had not heard their uprising and departure, and she had continued to sleep on until she knew not what hour of the day. She thought she would get up and dress herself quietly before any one should discover that she was awake. She slipped out of bed, and the first thing that she saw was her large sea trunk, that had been packed with undiscovered treasure of clothing by the benevolent women who had taken such a warm interest in her welfare, and who had given her an outfit as well as a first-class passage home. The key of her trunk was in her _portemonnaie_, in the pocket of her traveling dress. She got it out, unstrapped and unlocked the treasure chest, and lifted the lid. But just then she heard the voice of her baby crowing loudly in response to another cooing voice that she recognized as her mother’s.