Martie, the Unconquered

er. Lydia had been sent for in haste, by Mrs. Harry Kilroy, whose mother was not expected to live, said the pa

pposite her father with a curiosity entirely unmixed with the

fice of the Monroe Estates that afternoon to make him an offer for the home site. Martie

an imitation of his own scorn, "and I said, 'Gentlemen, before the home that was m

" asked Martie after duly

t, it was four feet below street level. It was surrounded by useless shabby barns and outhouses, it was five times too large for the diminished family, and, in case of Pa's death-and P

aid impatiently. For perhaps twenty years he had had occasional

s rather touching,

after a moment in which he obviously tried

t I suppose they realize that the neighbourhood is changing, and that those shops have come in, this side of the bridge, and that, even if we lived here te

, and drank off the hot fluid with grea

uld the family live?

that nothing would give that development such prestige as to have you there! Put up as pretty a house

s, she saw him tug at his

it you have a point there. With another attractive home there-yes, there is something in that. Bu

and have it chopped into shops and shanties, and another to have a three-hundred-thousand-dollar build

things; other persons could. Lydia and Ma would have goaded him into an obstinacy that no later judgment could dispel, and after his death Monroe would have lamented

the world," Malcolm sai

d never even considered such a step before, but that to sell for educational purpo

as!" he answ

of the Estates, now," said Martie, "but nat

eless assent, and sile

" he began suddenly

at brought Grandfather Monroe here; she doesn't, in the Estates, see property that will be just as beautiful and just as valuab

er Monroe as the field between two sheep-ranches.

ushed up on his lead-coloured forehead, to say that the sum old Tait mentioned would clear the mortgage, build a handsome house, and perhaps leave a bit over for

spectacles still on his forehead, at the pencilled list he had in his han

the funeral, and was so deeply absorbed and satisfied by her position in the Kilro

arch twilight, retailing the events of the last three d

ouis, you must come and have a cup of hot, strong coffee!' Bessie was there, and I must say she seemed as devoted to Grandma as if she'd been her own daughter, and she came and took my hands, and she said, 'Lydia, I never will forget all you've done for us!' Well," Lydia went on, with a sad little deprecato

't have a chance to say a word to you at the funeral-but the school boar

Lydia asked

to chew the fresh sprout

th remained a little op

y'll fill it in; they want

er head loftily. "Of c

always has-that nothing would

Lydia, brea

ering it. You see the instant Pa dies, the Bank will foreclose, for neit

ly and quickly. But her voi

t callous, cold-blooded way; when poor Ma hasn't be

, in which Martie only offered a few timid pats on her shoulder for con

n you-how CAN you! My home, the dear old Monroe place, that three generations of us-but I won't stand it! I feel as if Ma would rise up and rebuke me! No,

ore modern, on the Estates," Martie expla

Move out there so that Len would prosper, so that there would be one more hous

anything but a mildly neutral position, Lydia went upstairs. The di

t stood, the house would made an ideal "gentleman's estate," Martie mercilessly answered that at its present level, without ele

nterest, if anything happened

burning in her cheeks, and giving her mild face an unusually wild

ie reminded her. Lydia looked startled. "We could

s place a school house than a

t eyes red

Pa to death! Why shouldn't we live here, as we always have lived?" She turned to he

d," Martie said quickly.

hild. But Martie suddenly realized that it was true; she had really be

ther," Malcolm finally said. "

rotested, "what doe

ed to know more about business

his chin. "Your brother has been associated with men in busine

ly sought by her father, and to have him so gravely quoted. Len, slow witted and suspicious, thought that there was "something in the idea," but added pompously that he could n

nd Martie dusted and made beds the older sister poured forth a quiet stream of satisfied comment. Such things were for men's decidi

consideration, and the deal might be closed any day. One quiet, wet day she asked Miss Fanny for leave of absence, and went to the office of old Charley Tat

to the Bank, and see Mr. Frost. She

r for ducks, isn't it? But fortunately you and I aren'

her. Did Rose's face really

see Doris!" Rose got into the motor

Bank in this warm spring weather. A green shade was pushed up against his high forehead, which shone a little, and as Martie settled h

, a farm or two, several buildings in Main Street, and stock in the Bank, he studied and nursed carefu

that Rodney's shining brass and glass and mahogany lacked. She thought that perhaps Ruth had given her father the

e I haven't seen much of you since you came back! Ho

ill. And how's your own pretty girl?" Martie sm

e might. She went to her point frankly. Pa, she explained, was playing fast and loose with th

ly feel-" he nodde

just where I need your help. I thin

t was not clear yet

patiently. His face brigh

he said. "Of course, I want the deal to go through,"

you to do!" Martie

hed in

d. "I's telling him only yes'day that it wasn't

ntiment about it-the old Monroe place, you know. Tell him that people feel it OUGHT to be public property,

was shrewd, and his smile now was compounded of

n hasn't got it, too. I b'lieve I can work your Pa that way; anyway, I'll t

the roses, and called her attention to it. It had had some special care; Martie could honestly admire it. Clifford

to Ruthie a while back, that there was a strange lady in town; I'd seen her with Mrs. Joe Hawkes. 'Why, Papa,' she sa

answered in the country phra

sigh. "What was the-the cause?" he asked delicately. "He was a b

gular dinner on a certain night, first mentioned as "the Tuesday," and then corrected to "the Wednesday," and had asked Polly to boil her two egg

door, and asked her, if she was interested in r

rom the doorway. Martie, pleasantly stirred, went back to the Library

r his wife's death!" Lydia said that

Bank," Martie said truthfully.

o take it up with the Principal. He says there's no earthly reason in the world why Dorothy shouldn't have p

her indignation when the younger sister spent several evenings attempting to write an article on the subject

all about?"

ppeal to give girls the sa

a sm

E it? Girls don't w

r do bo

y didn't want on girls, just because it's for

tched sheets, smiled and blinked

he said then

d nights of fretting when the thought of Golda White had ridden her troubled thoughts like an evil dream. Later, she had re-written the article, just before Wallace's return from lon

dollars, Martie was not particularly thrilled. It was so small a drop in the ocean of magazine reading-it was so short a step to