In a month's time the old house was transformed beyond recognition, the fresh paint of the exterior holding its own bravely against the pretensions of the fresh paper and new carpets within. Thomas Hardin had sent to Boston for those carpets, the patterns in stock not satisfying Persis' exacting ideas. The transaction had been conducted with businesslike despatch on both sides, though on one occasion Thomas relaxed his dignity sufficiently to say, "Guess you're going to look pretty fine up there." Persis dryly admitted the prospective improvement. "Some folks can't bear to part with what's old, but I own I've got a liking for new things. When I can afford a change, I'm glad to have it." "Friends the same as carpets," Thomas thought with a little bitterness for which he at once reproached himself. For, after all, Persis' friendship had been stanch and steadfast till his own confession had disclosed his unworthiness. He atoned for his momentary lapse by making her a substantial discount on the linoleum she wanted for the kitchen. The seal of silence Joel had placed upon his lips was broken when the question of engaging a servant girl came to the fore. "Ain't you going to leave yourself nothing to do?" he demanded wildly. Then with a cunning for which few would have given him credit. "You'll get as fat as Etta West sitting around all day and being waited on." Persis listened unmoved, her rather enigmatic smile suggesting that she clearly foresaw a way out of that difficulty. "I'm not afraid but what I can find enough to keep me busy. Besides, I need a servant girl to look after things when I'm away." "Away? Are you going away?" "I'm going whenever I happen to feel like it. And the first time'll be next week, Monday." "Persis, where are you going?" "To the city for a week or so." Joel deliberated. He rose and paced the room, halting at length in a dramatic posture, face to face with his sister. "Persis, I've got no love for the city as you well know. As the poet says, 'God the first garden made and the first city, Cain.' But I'm ready to sacrifice myself for what's best for you. I'll go along." Persis regarded him without any indication of fervent gratitude for the sacrifice so nobly announced. "It's good of you, Joel, but it won't be necessary." He waved her protest away with a dominating gesture. "It _is_ necessary. It won't do to turn a woman like you loose in a city like Boston. As long as you didn't have any money, it wasn't so much matter. But now there'll be folks to sell you gold bricks, and when you unwrap 'em, they won't be nothing but plain ordinary bricks after all." "They can't sell me bricks if I won't buy 'em, Joel." "You don't know what they can do. You never went up against a professional sharper. Women ain't any match for that kind. They'll probably give me a bed at the hotel that hasn't been used since sometime last winter, but never mind. I'm going along to protect you."