Harry shook his head doubtfully. “I may see some beauty later when, when it gets into some sort of shape, and its head is screwed tighter; at present I don’t admire it, but, as Mark Twain says, ‘I’ve a certain respect for it, for its father’s sake.’” “Oh, Harry!” This was in the morning before he left home, and when he returned at night he went up to Molly’s room and kissed her. He thought she must certainly see the good news in his face, so accustomed was he to her reading his countenance. “Well, Molly, don’t you want to know the news?” “But you haven’t asked after the baby;—don’t you want to kiss it?” “My dear Molly, your serenity told me how the baby was,—and—and I wouldn’t disturb it to kiss it.” “You never saw such a sleeper as she is; she won’t wake, and _I’ve_ hardly seen her eyes yet!” “I hope she’ll continue such good habits; but now, Molly, I have great news—news I expected some time, of course, but not quite so soon.” Then he told the news, and Molly responded only by a closer pressure of his hand. “And that is not all; my father has decided to buy the Framley cottage and rent it to us, and says he meant to give my wife a check as a wedding present, had I married Miss Vanderpool, and now he sends it to you.” “Oh, Harry, how good of him! how much is it? That sounds greedy; but if it is enough we can furnish with it.” Harry opened his pocketbook and took out a check for $1,000. “You must lay this by, Molly, for yourself; you know I have $3,000 which we agreed never to touch except for some emergency; but now that my prospects are assured I prefer to furnish for you, Molly, rather than you for me.” “What will be your income, Harry?” “Oh, nothing very splendid, for I am only junior with a fifth interest, but it is the certainty of the future that delights me.” “Yes, and the proof of your father’s affection.” “Yes, certainly.” “You remember, Harry, what we promised each other,—that even with a better income our expenses were not to be increased?” “Not while I was on a salary, dear; but I am quite contented with the last year of our life; I want nothing grander or better, but I do want to see you in your own house furnished with your own taste, and replete with all the conveniences that will make the housekeeping you love, easy to you; and I shall insist on providing you with such assistance as will save your health and strength. But I am not anxious for style or show, and we will waste no money upon it.” Nor did they. Mr. Framley had built one of the handsomest houses in Greenfield, and the charming Queen Anne cottage they had hitherto lived in had been for sale. Molly had often pointed it out to her father-in-law and admired its beautiful lawn and expatiated on the fruits and kitchen garden, little supposing it would soon be her own home.