I did remember. I had made a swift calculation at the time that a hammock would be easier to run, so I had urged Marion not to go to the expense of a lawn-mower, reminding her also that it might properly be ranked among the tabooed farm implements. "Certainly," I answered, at a loss to know what was coming, "I said I would prefer a hammock." "And do you remember that you promised to hire or borrow one of Peter's cows to crop the grass on the lawn?" "Well, I didn't exactly promise. I said it would be easy enough to get one." "And now the grass is as long as hay. Why didn't you do it?" I frowned, for I hate insistent, unnecessary questions,--questions that are bound to lead up to some unpleasant climax that it would be better to avoid. I could stand being thrown overboard without ceremony better than being forced to walk the plank with measured tread, yet if I protest against this Socratic method of arriving at conclusions she tells me with pained surprise that it is for my good,--that I should learn not only to regret my mistakes, but to thoroughly understand why I am sorry. Rather than have her say that, I am willing to answer any ordinary question with outward docility. "The plan didn't seem so feasible when I thought it over," I replied meekly. "It would have looked foolish to offer to pay Peter for letting me feed his cow, and I couldn't make up my mind to borrow one, so the time slipped away before----" "Of course it did," she interrupted; "the way it always does. But, after all, I think"--a merry light danced in her eyes--"I'll forgive you. There'll be all the more grass for,--oh, dear, you do look so funny!--_our cow_." "_Our_ cow!" I gasped, in stupefaction. "Henry," she burst forth excitedly, "I've been trying to break it to you gently, but you don't seem to understand. I've come round to your way of thinking--you may go and buy a cow to-morrow." It was a complete surprise to me that Marion should be so suddenly seized by the desire to own a cow. For my own part I would rather have started with a herd, but still, it was something to be thankful for that she did not insist upon beginning with a goat. Then there was the possibility that a cow might grow into a herd; that would mean a hired man, horses, implements, a large dairy business, more land, an ultimate fortune. Yes, I was more than gratified that Marion was beginning to see that my ideas on farm management were sound. When I asked our butcher the next morning if he knew of any cows for sale in the neighborhood we awaited his answer with breathless anxiety. He half-closed his eyes, studying the mud on the wagon-wheel in profound meditation, our suspense intensified by this dramatic pause.