"Yes, father."

"Is the house locked up?"

"Yes."

"Are ye sure, now?"

"Why, yes, dear; I just did it."

"Well, won't ye see?"

"But I have seen, father." Jane did not often make so many words about
this little matter, but she was particularly tired to-night.

The old man fell back wearily.

"Seems ter me, Jane, ye might jest see," he fretted. "'T ain't much I'm
askin' of ye, an' ye know them spoons--"

"Yes, yes, dear, I'll go," interrupted the woman hurriedly.

"And, Jane!"

"Yes." The woman turned and waited. She knew quite well what was coming,
but it was the very exquisiteness of her patient care that allowed her
to give no sign that she had waited in that same spot to hear those same
words every night for long years past.

"An' ye might count 'em--them spoons," said the old man.