“Oh, I haven’t given up,” he said. “I think when the time comes——” “But if she won’t, ‘when the time comes’,” Mrs. Savage suggested;—“then instead of living here, where you’ve grown up and want to live, you’ll go and spend your life in New York. Is that it?” “Well, I——” “So you’d do it,” she said, “just to please the face in that photograph!” “You don’t understand, grandma,” he returned, and he hurriedly passed a handkerchief across his distressed forehead. “You see, it isn’t only Lena herself don’t think much of our part of the country. You see, her family——” “Ah!” the grim lady interrupted. “She’s got a family, has she? Indeed?” “Great goodness!” he groaned, “I mean her father and mother and her sister and her aunts and her married sister, and everybody. They’re important people, you see.” “Are they? What do they do that’s important?” “It isn’t so much what they do exactly,” he explained, “it’s what they _are_. You see, they’re descended from General McMillan and——” “General McMillan? Never heard of him. What was he a general of? New York militia? Knights of Pythias, maybe?” “I’m not exactly certain,” Dan admitted, again applying his handkerchief to his forehead. “I think he had something to do with history before the Revolution. I don’t know just what, but anyhow they all feel it was pretty important; and you see to them, why I’m just nobody at all, and of course they must feel I’m pretty crude. It’s true, too, because I _am_ crude compared to Lena; and for a good while her family were more or less against any such engagement. Of course, the way they think about _my_ family is even worse than the way you think about _them_, grandma; and naturally she says herself they’re positive it’d be a terrible sacrifice for her to come and live out here. I mean that’s the way they look at it.” “Of course they do,” said Mrs. Savage. “That’s the way those New York people at Saratoga thought about this part of the country. They’re just the same nowadays, I told you; they haven’t got the kind of brains that can learn anything. Does this photograph girl herself talk about what a ‘sacrifice’ it would be for her to live here?” “Lena McMillan is a noble girl,” Dan informed her earnestly. “She feels a lot of respect for her family’s wishes, and besides she doesn’t like the idea of leavin’ New York herself; but I don’t remember her usin’ the word ‘sacrifice’ exactly. She doesn’t put it that way.” “What about _you_? Do you put it that way? Do you think it would be a sacrifice for her to come and live here?” “I?” Dan was obviously astonished to be asked such a question. “Why, my goodness!” he exclaimed, “I wouldn’t be beggin’ her to try it if I thought so, would I? If I can just get her to try it I know she’ll like it. How could anybody help likin’ it?”