work in the house again as you have always done. Sometime, when your mother is stronger, you can take up your life again and go to school—as you meant to live—can't you?"
"That can never be now. If you take the farm or not, I must bide on here in the old way. I must take up the life my mother lived and my grandmother, and hers before her. It is mine, forever, to live it that way—or die."
"Why do you talk so?"
"God knows, but I can't tell you. Thank you, suh. I will be right glad to rent you the farm. I'd a heap rather you had it than any one else I ever knew, for we care more for it than you would guess, but for the rest—no. I must bide and work till I die; only maybe I can save little Hoyle and give him a chance to learn something, for he never could work—being like he is."
Thryng's eyes danced with joy as he regarded her. "Hoyle is not going to be always as he is, and he shall have the chance to learn something also. Look up, Miss Cassandra, look squarely into my eyes and laugh. Be happy, Miss Cassandra, and laugh. I say it."
She laughed softly then. She could not help it.
"Wasn't that what the 'Voices' were saying last night when you followed?"
"Yes, yes. They seemed like they were calling, 'Hope, hope,' but