"Wouldn't that be nice!" said Mrs. Daggett. "I was in a library once,
over to Grenoble. Even school children were coming in constant to get
books. But I never thought we could have one in Brookville. Where
could we have it, my dear?"

"Yes; that's the trouble," chimed in Lois. "There isn't any place fit
for anything like that in our town."

Lydia glanced appealingly from one to the other of the two faces. One
might have thought her irresolute--or even afraid of their verdict.

"I had thought," she said slowly, "of buying the old Bolton bank
building. It has not been used for anything, Judge Fulsom says,
since--"

"No; it ain't," acquiesced Mrs. Daggett soberly, "not since--"

She fell silent, thinking of the dreadful winter after the bank
failure, when scarlet fever raged among the impoverished homes.

"There's been some talk, off and on, of opening a store there,"
chimed in Lois Daggett, setting down her cup with a clash; "but I
guess nobody'd patronize it. Folks don't forget so easy."

"But it's a good substantial building," Lydia went on, her eyes
resting on Mrs. Daggett's broad, rosy face, which still wore that
unwonted look of pain and sadness. "It seems a pity not to change
the--the associations. The library and reading room could be on the
first floor; and on the second, perhaps, a town hall, where--"