Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later. ” He groaned. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous.
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