right, maybe," she hastened to add, "though"--this wistfully, in a
feminine and maternal subtlety of laying the first lines for sapping and
mining his position--"I often think about our life, all work and no play,
and wonder if we oughtn't to give the children the chance we never had."

"No good never came of idleness," said Hiram, uncompromisingly, "and to
be busy about foolishness is still worse. Work or rot--that's life."

"That's so; that's so," she conceded. And she was sincere; for that was
her real belief, and what she had hinted was a mere unthinking repetition
of the shallow, comfortable philosophy of most people--those "go easys"
and "do nothings" and "get nowheres" wherewith Saint X and the
surrounding country were burdened. "Still," she went on, aloud, "Arthur
hasn't got any bad habits, like most of the young men round here with
more money than's good for them."

"Drink ain't the only bad habit," replied Hiram. "It ain't the worst,
though it looks the worst. The boy's got brains. It ain't right to allow
him to choke 'em up with nonsense."

Ellen's expression was assent.

"Tell him to come down to the mill next Monday," said Hiram, after
another silence, "and tell him to get some clothes that won't look
ridiculous." He paused, then added; "A man that ain't ready to do
anything, no matter what so long as it's useful and honest, is good
for nothing."

The night had bred in Arthur brave and bold resolves. He would not tamely
submit; he would cast his father off, would go forth and speedily carve a