"Give yourself a chance if you do. We can go too far in our sacrifice for others—." He resumed his brisk professional manner. "In the meantime you've a rather sick old gentleman on your hands. You'd better get a nurse."
CHAPTER VII
HILDA
The argument came up at breakfast two days before Thanksgiving. It was a hot argument. Jean beat her little hands upon the table. Hilda's hands were still, but it was an irritating stillness.
"What do you think, Daddy?"
"Hilda is right. There is no reason why we should go to extremes."
"But a turkey—."
"Nobody has said that we shouldn't have a turkey on Thanksgiving—not even Hoover." Hilda's voice was as irritating as her hands.
"Well, we have consciences, Hilda. And a turkey would choke me."