It was Rose’s turn to be surprised. “No, indeed, I’ve heard nothing from Horsham since Mrs. Gloin’s sister left there. But I’m glad if you have.”

“Be you really?” his face brightening. “Well, now, you see,” with the confidential tone Rose remembered so well, “mebby some folks’ld think I hadn’t orter done such a thing. But I tell you after a man has had a home as many years as I had it’s kinder tough to be without one. I couldn’t live alone; Rover an’ I tried that, an’ everything got messed up dreadful; keepin’ a hired girl wasn’t much better; an’ to eat my victuals at somebody else’s table didn’t seem reel natural, now it didn’t.

“I thought if Almiry knew all the circumstances she wouldn’t blame me none ef I did marry. An’ there was Mirandy Fraser, Jim Fraser’s widow—don’t know as you ever knew her, a mighty pretty little woman—she was havin’ a hard time to get along with her two little girls, for Jim never was noways forehanded. So I figured it out that she needed a home, an’ I needed some one to make a home; an’ the long an’ short of it is I married her. An’ the plan’s worked first rate, well now it has. She ain’t such a manager,” he admitted, “as Almiry was; but then,” with a touch of pride, “I don’t suppose it would be easy to find Almiry’s equal there. But I’ll say this, I never did see Mirandy’s match for bein’ pleasant. I don’t believe anybody ever heerd her speak cross, I really don’t. She’s so contented, too, with everything; hasn’t given me the first fault-findin’ word yet, not the first one.”

“How nice that is!” Rose rejoined heartily.

“An’ the little girls,” all the lines on Mr. Hagood’s face deepened into a tender smile as he spoke of them, “Susy an’ Ruth, I just wish you could see them; there never were two prettier-behaved children, if I do say it. They like to come out an’ sit in the shop when I’m at work there, just as you used to, an’, well, they an’ Rover an’ me has some pretty good times together.”

Rose smiled. “I don’t believe they enjoy it any more than I did.”

“I don’t work so much in the shop, though,” he added, “for I’ve a good deal to look after. I’m over this way now on business. The fact of the matter is,” an accent of dejection creeping into his tone, “I’ve made a bad bargain. Ever since Almiry went I’ve kept everything up straight as a string, an’ haven’t lost a dollar till now. I s’pose she’d say it was all my fault, an’ so it is,” growing more and more depressed; “for I suppose I ought to hev known better than to hev ever lent Tom Hodges a hundred dollars. When he moved away from Horsham he couldn’t pay me, but he’d got a good place as foreman in a mill, an’ promised it all right. That was eight months ago, an’ I’ve never seen a single cent, so I made up my mind I’d go over there an’ look him up, an’ I found Tom to-day down with the rheumatism, not able to do a stroke o’ work, an’ they looked in pretty bad shape—well, now they did. Of course he couldn’t pay me, said he hadn’t but two dollars in money, but there was a cow, I could take that towards it ef I wanted to. But bless you, there was four little children who would hev to go without milk ef I took the cow, an’ I told Tom I’d wait on him till he could earn the money, which just the same as meant that I’d give it to him, for crippled up as he is he can’t more’n take care of his family. An’ when I come away I handed his wife five dollars; she looked as though she needed it, an’ they’ve both always done as well as they could. I don’t know what Almiry’d say ef she could know it. But hang it all!” giving his hat a slap on his knee, “Mirandy said not to be hard on ’em, an’ it won’t kill me ef I do lose it.

“No, I can’t stay all night,” in answer to Rose’s invitation. “I brought Mirandy an’ the little girls to my Cousin Em’ly’s, ten mile from here, an’ they’ll be lookin’ for me back. But I wish you’d come an’ see us, Posey,” as he rose to go. “I’ve told Mirandy about you, an’ she’d do everything to make it pleasant. We haven’t changed things any to speak of since you was there, only we live more in the front part o’ the house. I couldn’t help feelin’ at first that Almiry wouldn’t like it, but I wanted to make it pleasant for Mirandy an’ the children, an’ you know it wasn’t what you could call reel cheerful in that back kitchen.”

“And can Rover come in the house now?” asked Rose.

“Yes, Rover comes in, an’ we hev the front blinds open, an’ evenin’s last winter we’d hev apples an’ nuts an’ popcorn, ’most as though it was a party. You know,” with a broad smile, “I never had any children o’ my own before, an’ I sort o’ enjoy havin’ some little girls to call me ‘Pa.’”