which I sent, with a letter to Mr. ----. We sat talking on the porch,
watching the moon rise and flood the dew-wet fields with a tide of white
radiance. Occasionally we heard Mr. or Mrs. Hopper in the lamp-lit
sitting-room making brief comments on neighborhood gossip, or the crops,
and then Mrs. Hopper would go on silently sewing, and "Pa," his white
head bent over a "Farmer's Almanac," made long and painful calculations
on a scrap of paper in which he seemed to get much mysterious assistance
from the almanac.

Without, the cool night air touched my face gently. My head was burning
and fevered with the day's emotions, but I felt the infinite peace of
the evening calming me.

"No," I said firmly, "indeed I have decided wisely, Mr. Longworth. I am
going back to my old work cheerfully, and shall never think again of
my--my disappointment. I believe I can easily get work on my old paper,
the "_Courier_," and I have been offered an editorial position on a new
fashion paper, beside my weekly letter to the "_Red Cañon Gazette_.'"
Naturally I did not tell him that I had spent all my savings of a year
on this planned vacation, when I was to finish the book that should
reimburse me.

"You shall not go back to that wretched drudgery," said Mr. Longworth,
in his impetuous, nervous manner. "Do not imagine you are ever to do it
again. Tell me," he said, lowering his voice, and leaning toward me so
that he could see my face, shaded by the vine-hung trellis. "Could you
be happy--"

We heard Mr. Hopper moving around the room uneasily, and instinctively
Mr. Longworth paused.