"Life is more—reason is more," answered the doctor, gravely.
And the wife went about her daily task with a secret heaviness at her heart.
"Father," said Faith, one evening, after she had read to him the paper while he lay resting upon the sofa, "if you had money enough to live on, how long would it take you to wind up your business?"
"It's pretty nearly wound up now! But what's the use of asking such a question?"
"Because," said Faith, timidly, "I've got a little plan in my head, if you'll only listen to it."
"Well, Faithie, I'll listen. What is it?"
And then Faith spoke it all out, at once.
"That you should give up all your business, father, and let this house, and go to Cross Corners, and live at the farm."
Mr. Gartney started to his elbow. But a sudden pain that leaped in his temples sent him back again. For a minute or so, he did not speak at all. Then he said:
"Do you know what you are talking of, daughter?"