Alida was not so cold, weary, and almost faint but that she looked around the old kitchen with the strongest interest.  This interest was as unlike Mrs. Mumpson's curiosity as she was unlike the widow.  It is true the thought of self was prominent, yet hers were not selfish thoughts.  There are some blessed natures in the world that in doing the best for themselves do the best that is possible for others.

The genial warmth of the fire was grateful to her chilled and enfeebled frame; the homely kitchen, with its dresser of china ware, its tin closet and pantry, the doors of which old Jonathan had left open, manlike, after helping himself "bount'fully," all suggested more comfort to this pallid bride, sitting there alone, than wealth of ornament in elegant apartments has brought to many others.  She saw her chief domain, not in its coarse and common aspect, but as her vantage ground, from which she could minister to the comforts of the one who had rescued her.  Few brides would care to enter the kitchen first, but she was pleased; she who had scarcely hoped to smile again looked smilingly around on the quaint, homelike room.

"And this is to be my home!" she murmured. "How strange, unexpected, yet natural it all is!  Just what he led me to expect.  The little lonely farmhouse, where I can be safe from staring eyes and unwounded by cruel questionings.  Yet that old man had a dozen questions on his tongue.  I believe HE took him away to save my feelings.  It's strange that so plain and simple a man in most respects can be so considerate.  Oh, pray God that all goes on as it promises!  I couldn't have dreamt it this morning, but I have an odd, homelike feeling already.  Well, since I AM at home I may as well take off my hat and cloak."

And she did so.  Holcroft entered and said heartily, "That's right, Alida!  You are here to stay, you know.  You mustn't think it amiss that I left you a few moments alone for I had to get that talkative old man off home.  He's getting a little childish and would fire questions at you point-blank."

"But shouldn't you have taken him home in the wagon?  I don't mind being alone."

"Oh, no!  He's spry enough to walk twice the distance and often does.  It's light as day outside, and I made it right with him.  You can leave your things upstairs in your room, and I'll carry up your bundles also if you are rested enough for the journey."

"Oh, yes!" she replied, "I'm feeling better already."

He led the way to the apartment that Mrs. Mumpson had occupied and said regretfully, "I'm sorry the room looks so bare and comfortless, but that will all be mended in time.  When you come down, we'll have some coffee and supper."

She soon reappeared in the kitchen, and he continued, "Now I'll show you that I'm not such a very helpless sort of man, after all; so if you're sick you needn't worry.  I'm going to get you a good cup of coffee and broil you a piece of steak."

"Oh!  Please let me--" she began.

"No, can't allow you to do anything tonight but sit in that chair.  You promised to mind, you know," and he smiled so genially that she smiled back at him although tears came into her eyes.

"I can't realize it all," she said in a low voice. "To think how this day began and how it is ending!"

"It's ending in a poor man's kitchen, Alida.  It was rather rough to bring you in here first, but the parlor is cold and comfortless.

"I would rather be brought here.  It seems to me that it must be a light and cheerful room."

"Yes, the sun shines in these east windows, and there's another window facing the south, so it's light all day long."

She watched him curiously and with not a little self-reproach as he deftly prepared supper. "It's too bad for me to sit idle while you do such things, yet you do everything so well that I fear I shall seem awkward.  Still, I think I do at least know how to cook a little."

"If you knew what I've had to put up with for a year or more, you wouldn't worry about satisfying me in this respect.  Except when old Mrs. Wiggins was here, I had few decent meals that I didn't get myself," and then, to cheer her up, he laughingly told her of Mrs. Mumpson's essay at making coffee.  He had a certain dry humor, and his unwonted effort at mimicry was so droll in itself that Alida was startled to hear her own voice in laughter, and she looked almost frightened, so deeply had she been impressed that it would never be possible or even right for her to laugh again.

The farmer was secretly much pleased at his success.  If she would laugh, be cheerful and not brood, he felt sure she would get well and be more contented.  The desperate view she had taken of her misfortunes troubled him, and he had thought it possible that she might sink into despondency and something like invalidism; but that involuntary bubble of laughter reassured him. "Quiet, wholesome, cheerful life will restore her to health," he thought, as he put his favorite beverage and the sputtering steak on the table. "Now," he said, placing a chair at the table, "you can pour me a cup of coffee."

"I'm glad I can do something," she answered, "for I can't get over the strangeness of being so waited on.  Indeed, everything that was unexpected or undreamt of has happened," and there was just the faintest bit of color on her cheeks as she sat down opposite him.

Few men are insensible to simple, natural, womanly grace, and poor Holcroft, who so long had been compelled to see at his table "perfect terrors," as he called them, was agreeably impressed by the contrast she made with the Mumpson and Malony species.  Alida unconsciously had a subtle charm of carriage and action, learned in her long past and happy girlhood when all her associations were good and refined.  Still, in its truest explanation, this grace is native and not acquired; it is a personal trait.  Incapable of nice analysis or fine definitions, he only thought, "How much pleasanter it is to see at the table a quiet, sensible woman instead of a 'peculiar female!'" and it was not long before he supplemented her remark by saying, "Perhaps things are turning out for both of us better than we expected.  I had made up my mind this morning to live here like a hermit, get my own meals, and all that.  I actually had the rough draught of an auction bill in my pocket,--yes, here it is now,--and was going to sell my cows, give up my dairy, and try to make my living in a way that wouldn't require any woman help.  That's what took me up to Tom Watterly's; I wanted him to help me put the bill in shape.  He wouldn't look at it, and talked me right out of trying to live like Robinson Crusoe, as he expressed it.  I had been quite cheerful over my prospects; indeed, I was almost happy in being alone again after having such terrors in the house.  But, as I said, Watterly talked all the courage and hope right out of me, and made it clear that I couldn't go it alone.  You see, Tom and I have been friends since we were boys together, and that's the reason he talks so plain to me."

"He has a good, kind heart," said Alida. "I don't think I could have kept up at all had it not been for his kindness."

"Yes, Tom's a rough diamond.  He don't make any pretenses, and looks upon himself as a rather hard case, but I fancy he's doing kind things in his rough way half the time.  Well, as we were talking, he remembered you, and he spoke of you so feelingly and told your story with so much honest sympathy that he awoke my sympathy.  Now you know how it has all come ab............