"Bolivar can feed both roads with the whole of the Harpeth Valley on
that side of the river. They'll get the roads, I'm thinking. Poor old
Glendale!"

"Isn't there anything to feed the monsters this side of the river?" I
demanded, indignant at the barrenness of the south side of the valley of
Old Harpeth.

"Very little unless it's the scenery along the bluff," he replied, with
the depression sounding still more clearly in his voice and his
shoulders drooped against the unsympathetic old stone post in a way that
sent a pang to my heart.

"Jamie, is all you've got tied up in the venture?" I asked softly, using
the name that a very small I had given him in a long ago when the world
was young and not full of problems.

"That's not the worst, Evelina," he answered in a voice that was
positively haggard. "But what belongs to the rest of the family is all
in the same leaky craft. Carruthers put Sallie's in himself, but I
invested the mites belonging to the others. Of course, as far as the
old folks are concerned, I can more than take care of them, and if
anything happens there's enough life insurance and to spare for them. I
don't feel exactly responsible for Sallie's situation, but I do feel the
responsibility of their helplessness. Sallie is not fitted to cope with
the world and she ought to be well provided for. I feel that more and
more every day. Her helplessness is very beautiful and tender, but in a
way tragic, don't you think?"

I wish I had dared tell him for the second time that day what I did