"That glove of hers was wringing wet."
"Yes, with the pea-vines, and strawberries too; you know they get so loaded with dew. O Fleda gets more than her gloves wet. But she does not mind anything she does for father and mother."
"Humph!--And does she get enough when all is done to pay for the trouble?"
"I don't know," said Hugh rather sadly. "She thinks so. It is no trifle."
"Which?--the pay or the trouble?"
"Both. But I meant the pay. Why she made ten dollars last year from the asparagus beds alone, and I don't know how much more this year."
"Ten dollars!--The devil!"
"Why?"
"Have you come to counting your dollars by the tens?"
"We have counted our sixpences so a good while," said Hugh quietly.