"You ought to a told me when he spoke of it, Jinnie. I could a fixed it." The cobbler smiled, and then laughed. Once more on the stool in front of him, Jinnie said: "I'm afraid Mr. King was a little offended." "It would a done you a lot of good to get out in the fields----" chided Lafe. "And the woods, Lafe. I'd taken my fiddle. He asked me to." "Sure," replied Lafe.... "Call Peggy." Mrs. Grandoken, looking from one to the other, noticed Lafe's gravity and signs of Jinnie's tears. "What's the matter?" she inquired. Lafe told her quietly, and finished with his hand on Jinnie's head. "Our little helper ought to have some fun, Peggy." Jinnie glanced up. What would Peggy think? But for a few minutes Peg didn't tell them. Then she said: "She ought a went, I think, Lafe." Jinnie got up so quickly that Happy Pete and Milly Ann stirred in their sleep. "Oh, Peg, I do want to--but how can I, now I've said I wouldn't?... How can I?" "You can't," decided Peg gruffly, and Jinnie dropped down once more at Lafe's feet. "I guess you'll have to forget about it, child, an' be 'Happy in Spite'," said Lafe, with a sigh. The next day Peggy took Lafe into her confidence. "I think it could be did," she ended, looking at her husband. "Mebbe," said Mr. Grandoken thoughtfully. "I'll do it," snapped Peg, "but I hate 'er, an' you can bang me if that ain't a fact, but--but I'll go, I said." About ten o'clock Peggy dressed and went out. Theodore King was in his office, trying to keep his mind on a line of figures. Of late work palled on him. He sighed and leaned back thoughtfully, striking and touching a match to his cigar. Memories of blue-eyed Jinnie enveloped him in a mental maze. She stood radiant and beckoning, her exquisite face smiling into his at every turn. He realized now how much he desired Jinnie Grandoken--and were she with him at that moment, life could offer him nothing half so sweet. "I want her always," he said grimly, aloud to himself. A boy's head appeared at the door. "Woman to see you, sir," said he. "Who?" "Mrs. Grandoken." "Show her in," and Theodore stood up. Peggy came in embarrassedly. She had a mission to perform which she very much disliked. "Good morning, Mrs. Grandoken," said Theodore, holding out his hand. "Good morning, sir," said Peg, flushing darkly. Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. How could she state her errand to this dignified, handsome young man? He was looking at her questioningly; but that wasn't all--he was smiling encouragingly also. "Won't you sit down?" said he. Peggy coughed, smoothed her mouth with her hand, pulled the thin shawl more closely about her shoulders, and took the indicated seat. Taking no time to reflect on the best way to present her case, she blurted out, "Lafe didn't know till last night about your askin' Jinnie to go for a holiday?" "Oh!" The man was at a loss to say more than that one word in question. "No," replied Peggy, "and she's been cryin'----"