“That's what I thought,” said Simeon.
“Well, she raised her head then and looked at me.
“'You mean Mr. Williams?' she asks.
“That riled me up. 'Williams nothin'!' says I. 'Williams let you stay here 'cause he could just as well as not. If he'd known that this other friend was keepin' him from gettin' here, just on your account, he'd have chucked you to glory, promise or no promise. But this friend, this real friend, he don't count cost, nor trouble, nor inconvenience. Hikes his house—the house he lives in—right out into the road, moves it to a place where he don't want to go, and—'
“'Mr. Phinney,' she sighs out, 'what do you mean?'
“And then I told her. She listened without sayin' a word, but her eyes kept gettin' brighter and brighter and she breathed short.
“'Oh!' she says, when I'd finished. 'Did he—did he—do that for ME?'
“'You bet!' says I. 'He didn't tell me what he was doin' it for—that ain't Sol's style; but I'm arithmetiker enough to put two and two together and make four. He did it for you, you can bet your last red on that.'
“She stood up. 'Oh!' she breathes. 'I—I must go and thank him. I—'
“But, knowin' Sol, I was afraid. Fust place, there was no tellin' how he'd act, and, besides, he might not take it kindly that I'd told her.