"Dearest, that's nonsense. What do I know about farming?"

"Nothing yet. But you know what a wonderful man you are. Never forget

that, Clive--"

"If you don't stop laughing at me, you little wretch--"

"Don't you want me to remain young?" she asked reproachfully, while

two tiny demons of gaiety danced in her eyes. "If I can't laugh I'll

grow old. And there's nothing very funny here except you and

Hafiz--Oh, Clive! You have rumpled me! Please don't do it again!

Yes--yes--yes! I do surrender! I am sorry--that you are so

funny--Clive! You'll ruin this gown!... I promise not to say another

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disrespectful word.... I don't know whether I'll kiss you or

not--Yes! Yes I will, dear. Yes, I'll do it tenderly--you heartless

wretch!--I tell you I'll do it tenderly.... Oh wait, Clive! Is Mrs.

Connor looking out of any window? Where's Connor? Are you sure he's

not in sight?... And I shouldn't care to have Hafiz see us. He's a

moral kitty--"

She pretended to look fearfully around, then, with adorable

tenderness, she paid her forfeit and sat silent for a while with her

slim white fingers linked in his, in that breathless little revery

which always stilled her under the magic of his embrace.

He said at last: "Do you really suppose I could make this farm-land

pay?"

And that was really the beginning of it all.

* * * * *

Once decided he seemed to go rather mad about it, buying agricultural

paraphernalia recklessly and indiscriminately for a meditated assault

upon fields long fallow.

Connor already had as much as he could attend to in the garden; but,

like all Irishmen, he had a cousin, and the cousin possessed

agricultural lore and a pair of plough-horses.

So early fall ploughing developed into a mania with Clive and Athalie;

and they formed a habit of sitting side by side like a pair of birds

on fences in the early October sunshine, their fascinated eyes

following the brown furrows turning where one T. Phelan was breaking

up pasture and meadow too long sod-bound.

In intervals between tenderer and more intimate exchange of sentiments

they discussed such subjects as lime, nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and

the rotation of crops.

Also Athalie had accumulated much literature concerning incubators,

brooders, and the several breeds of domestic fowl; and on paper they

had figured out overwhelming profits.

The insidious land-hunger which attacks all who contemplate making two

dozen blades of grass grow where none grew before, now seized upon

Clive and gnawed him. And he extended the acreage, taking in woods and

uplands as far as the headwaters of Spring Pond Brook, vastly to

Athalie's delight.




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