His face kindled with interest as the letter went on with its
proposition, but he shook his head when it came to the money part,
interrupting her:

"I don't like that idea, Mother; we don't keep boarders, and we're
plenty able to invite company for as long as we like. Besides, it don't
seem just the right thing for that young feller to be paying her board.
She wouldn't like it if she knew it. If she was our daughter we wouldn't
want her to be put in that position, though it's very kind of him of
course--"

"Of course!" said Mother, breathlessly. "He couldn't very well ask us,
you know, without saying something like that, especially as he doesn't
know us, except by hearsay, at all."

"Of course," agreed Father; "but then, equally of course we won't let it
stand that way. You can send that young feller back his check, and tell
him to get his new ottymobeel. He won't be young but once, and I reckon
a young feller of that kind won't get any harm from his ottymobeels, no
matter how many he has of 'em. You can see by his letter he ain't
spoiled yet, and if he's got hold of Steve's idea of things he'll find
plenty of use for his money, doing good where there ain't a young woman
about that is bound to object to being took care of by a young man she
don't know and don't belong to. However, I guess you can say that,
Mother, without offending him. Tell him we'll take care of the money
part. Tell him we're real glad to get a daughter. You're sure, Mother,
it won't be hard for you to have a stranger around in Steve's place?"

"No, I like it," said Mother, with a smile, brushing away a bright tear
that burst out unawares. "I like it '_hard_,' as Steve used to say! Do