"Yes, father; I've been thinking it over a good while—since the night we wrote down these things."
And she drew from her pocket the memorandum of stocks and dividends.
"You see you have six hundred and fifty dollars a year from these, and this house would be six hundred more, and mother says she can manage on that, in the country, if I will help her."
Mr. Gartney shaded his eyes with his hand. Not wholly, perhaps, to shield them from the light.
"You're a good girl, Faithie," said he, presently; and there was assuredly a little tremble in his voice.
"And so, you and your mother have talked it over, together?"
"Yes; often, lately. And she said I had better ask you myself, if I wished it. She is perfectly willing. She thinks it would be good."
"Faithie," said her father, "you make me feel, more than ever, how much I ought to do for you!"
"You ought to get well and strong, father—that is all!" replied Faith, with a quiver in her own voice.
Mr. Gartney sighed.