Turning toward the kitchen, she began to pack a box which stood waiting on the end of the kitchen table. Doughnuts, cookies and pies had been left there to cool the evening before. Mrs. Farnshaw was to have threshers to cook for to-day, and Elizabeth had grown thoughtful of the mother, who was aging visibly. In such ways as she could, she spared her mother's strength and gave her the comfort of frequent visits and companionship. In order to get the long eight-mile drive over before it became hot, it was necessary to get an early start, and Elizabeth, with Jack at her side, was on the road before the sun was fairly above the horizon. About eight o'clock Mrs. Farnshaw turned at the sound of their feet on her doorstep. She set her cob basket on the floor, put the stove lid over the roaring fire, and turned to Jack with grandmotherly delight. "You're a real comfort, Lizzie," she said, straightening up with Jack in her arms. "I never used t' think you would be, but you are. I'm that tired that I'm ready t' drop." "Anything more than usual?" Elizabeth asked, noting the fagged and heavy face, and the gathering tears. "Oh, nothin' more 'n 'as happened many a time; only 'e grows crosser, seems to me, as 'e grows older. He was particular bad last night, and I didn't sleep none. It's awful hot weather t' lay awake." When Elizabeth did not reply, the mother said testily: "Now I s'pose You'll be thinkin' that you don't have t' care for what a man says." Elizabeth laughed, but not in her usual merry way. "Perhaps," she said slowly. "I was thinking farther than that--I was wondering----" She paused to think and then broke out suddenly. "John's written to ask if he can come back, and I was just wondering----" Mrs. Farnshaw was all animation at once, her own troubles forgotten. "You don't say?" she exclaimed. "Now look here, Lizzie, you're goin' t' let him come?" Elizabeth had told her mother on the impulse of the moment after withholding the news from Nathan and even from Jack. The child had been wriggling out of his grandmother's arms and had not heard what his mother said. Elizabeth waited till he was out of hearing. She half regretted having mentioned it. She was going to have to argue out her decision with her mother, and she had made no decision. The mother's accidental remark had produced the impulse to tell. Well, it was all right. It might be that she could decide better after discussing it with some one. Elizabeth looked at her mother doubtfully. "I don't know, ma. I may. It's all owing to whether we can agree on the terms of starting over." "You ain't goin' t' lay down rules t' him?" the mother cried in amazement. "Now's my time to find out what rules he's going to lay down to me at least," Elizabeth said dryly. "But I never heard of such a thing! Say, don't you love 'im any more, Lizzie?"