"Yes, why not? I assure you I don't mind it."
"Ha! Ha! Why didn't I think of it before—I might have kept the parlor and smoked Mrs. Mumpson out."
"It won't be smoke that will keep me out."
"I should hope not, or anything else. I must tell you how I DID have to smoke Mrs. Mumpson out at last," and he did so with so much drollery that she again yielded to irrepressible laughter.
"Poor thing! I'm sorry for her," she said.
"I'm sorry for Jane—poor little stray cat of a child! I hope we can do something for her some day," and having lighted his pipe, he took up the county paper, left weekly in a hollow tree by the stage driver, and went into the parlor.
After freshening up the fire he sat down to read, but by the time she joined him the tired man was nodding. He tried to brighten up, but his eyes were heavy.
"You've worked hard today," she said sympathetically.
"Well, I have," he answered. "I've not done such a good day's work in a year."
"Then why don't you go to sleep at once?"