"Yes, papa."

"Got your hat on," he said. "Where you going?"

"I'm going down-town on an errand of my own. Is there anything
you want, papa?"

"Yes, there is." He smiled at her. "I wish you'd sit down a
while and talk to me unless your errand----"

"No," she said, taking a chair near him. "I was just going down
to see about some arrangements I was making for myself. There's
no hurry."

"What arrangements for yourself, dearie?"

"I'll tell you afterwards--after I find out something about 'em
myself."

"All right," he said, indulgently. "Keep your secrets; keep your
secrets." He paused, drew musingly upon his pipe, and shook his
head. "Funny--the way your mother looks at things! For the
matter o' that, everything's pretty funny, I expect, if you stop
to think about it. For instance, let her say all she likes, but
we were pushed right spang to the wall, if J. A. Lamb hadn't
taken it into his head to make that offer for the works; and
there's one of the things I been thinking about lately, Alice:
thinking about how funny they work out."