to "bring home a wife some fine morning." The young fellow reddened
resentfully, and brusquely retorted that they "had lived in their
old slovenly way long enough. People might well think they were
going to the bad." This practical view somewhat reconciled his
father to the new ideas, and suggested that Roger was not so daft
as he feared. A little time after he was led to believe his son to
be shrewder than himself. Needing some money, he took a note to the
bank with much misgiving, but was agreeably surprised when one of
the officers said affably, "I think we can accommodate you, Mr.
Atwood. I was by your place the other day, and it is so improved
that I scarcely knew it. Thrift and credit go together."

But Mildred doubted whether thrift and policy were the only motives
which had led to Roger's unwonted action, and believed rather that
he had awakened to a perception of the value and attractiveness
of those things which hitherto he had not appreciated. This, in a
sense, was already true, but had she known to what extent she was
in his thoughts she would not have smiled so complacently when,
on the Saturday morning after the completion of his other labors,
she noted that the weed-choked flower-borders along the walk had
been cleaned and neatly rounded up, and the walk itself put in
perfect order. "The flower-beds remind me of himself," she thought,
as from time to time she glanced at them through her open window.
"They contain a good deal of vacant space, and suggest what might
be there rather than what is. Would to heaven, though, that Mr.
Arnold had more of his muscle and decision. If Vinton were only
different, how different all the future might be! But I fear,
I fear. We have not enough money to last all summer if we remain
here, and father writes so discouragingly. Thank God, I'm no longer
idle, whether anything comes of my work or not," and the delicate