“From a man in the street. He had two to sell and one was dying. I took it into a drug store and had it put out of its misery and brought this one home to you.”
“You gentle thing!” said Missie, and, lifting the little creature out of the box, she set hemp seed and water before it.
The dove ate and drank greedily, then finding a place in the sun on the table, flew to it and began cleaning her feathers.
“She is used to strangers,” said Mr. Martin. “She has no fear of us.”
“Henry, you were glad of an excuse to come home,” said Mrs. Martin. “You are tired.”
“A trifle,” he said.
“Have you been losing money?” asked his wife.
“A trifle,” he said again, and this time he smiled.
“These hard times, I suppose,” she said, “and worry.”
He nodded.