"If we did not like it we could come back to the city in the fall,
and get a house here; if we did we could stay later and come in to
board for three or four months. I shouldn't mind if we did not come
at all."

"No country in the winter for me, thank you," said I; "with the wind
drawing through the open cracks in your country built house half
freezing you, and when you try to keep warm your air-tight stove
half suffocating you; with the roads outside blocked up with great
drifts, and the trains delayed just on the days when I have a
critical case in court."

"Very well," said Jennie. She is too much of a diplomate to argue.
"When the snow comes we can easily move back again, as easily as
find a new house now. To tell the truth, John, I have no heart for
house-hunting now."

"Well," said I. "I will see Sinclair to-morrow. And if his house is
in the market, Jennie, we we will move there as soon as the spring
fairly opens."

It was in the market. He was anxious to be rid of it. I hired it for
the year, together with the furniture, at $800,--and he agreed that
if I bought it in the Fall the half year rent should go on the
purchase money. I did not pay him any rent. I did not move into the
city when the snow came. The diplomate had her own way as she always
does. We live in the country; and I--I am very glad of it. I can
harness Katie on a pinch. I am not afraid of the cow. I am not
skilful with the hoe, but I am as proud of my flower garden as any