But Val did not attempt an answer. She was staring--staring as if she could not convince herself of the reality. Even Manley was jarred out of his gloomy meditations, and half rose in the seat that he might see over Hank's shoulder. “That's what your neighbors have done,” Arline began eagerly, “and they nearly busted tryin' to git through in time, and to keep it a dead secret. They worked like whiteheads, lemme tell you, and never even stopped for the storm. The night of the dance I heard all about how they had to hurry. And I guess Kent's there an' got a fire started, like I told him to. I was afraid it might be colder'n what it is. I asked him if he wouldn't ride over an' warm up the house t'day--and I see there's a smoke, all right.” She looked at Manley, and then turned to Val. “Well, ain't you goin' to say anything? You dumb, both of you?” Val took a deep breath. “We should be dumb,” she said contritely. “We should go down on our knees and beg their pardon and yours--I especially. I think I've never in my life felt quite so humbled--so overwhelmed with the goodness of my fellows, and my own unworthiness. I--I can't put it into words--all the resentment I have felt against the country and the people in it--as if--oh, tell them all how I want them to forgive me for--for the way I have felt. And--_Arline_--” “There, now--I didn't bargain for you to make it so serious,” Arline expostulated, herself near to crying. “It ain't nothing much--us folks believe in helpin' when help's needed, that's all. For Heaven's sake, don't go 'n' cry about it!” Hank pulled up at the gate with a loud _whoa_ and a grip of the brake. From the kitchen stovepipe a blue ribbon of smoke waved high in the clear air. Kent appeared, grinning amiably, in the doorway, but Val was looking beyond, and scarcely saw him--beyond, where stood a new stable upon the ashes of the old; a new corral, the posts standing solidly in the holes dug for those burned away; a new haystack--when hay was almost priceless! A few chickens wandered about near the stable, and Val recognized them as Arline's prized Plymouth Rocks. Small wonder that she and Manley were stunned to silence. Manley still looked as if some one had dealt him an unexpected blow in the face. Val was white and wide-eyed. Together they walked out to the stable. When they stopped, she put her hand timidly upon his aim. “Dear,” she said softly, “there is only one way to thank them for this, and that is to be the very best it is in us to be. We will, won't we? We--we haven't been our best, but we'll start in right now. Shall we, Manley?” Manley looked down at her for a moment, saying nothing. “Shall we, Manley? Let us start now, and try again. Let's play the fire burned up our old selves, and we're all new, and strong--shall we? And we won't feel any resentment for what is past, but we'll work together, and think together, and talk together, without any hidden thing we can't discuss freely. Please, Manley!”