"Oh!" she
cried, "you mean--"
"I have a trick of meaning what I say," her
uncle said, smiling at her.
"I wish I could say--what I want to--and
can't find words for--" Hilary said.
"We haven't consulted the higher authorities
yet, you know."
"And--Oh, I don't see how mother could
get on without us, even if--"
"Mothers have a knack at getting along
without a good many things--when it means
helping their young folks on a bit,"
Mr. Shaw remarked. "I'll have a talk with her
and your father to-night."
That evening, pacing up and down the
front veranda with his brother, Mr. Shaw
said, with his customary abruptness, "You
seem to have fitted in here, Phil,--perhaps, you
were in the right of it, after all. I take it
you haven't had such a hard time, in some ways."
The minister did not answer immediately.
Looking back nearly twenty years, he told
himself, that he did not regret that early
choice of his. He had fitted into the life here;
he and his people had grown together. It had
not always been smooth sailing and more than
once, especially the past year or so, his
narrow means had pressed him sorely, but on the
whole, he had found his lines cast in a
pleasant place, and was not disposed to rebel
against his heritage.
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