“You forgot!” she exclaimed.  “It really isn’t often I trouble you with guests.”

“That’s lucky, because I haven’t much time for entertaining people.  I’m overworked just now.”

Helen hesitated because she was afraid she might say too much.  She admired his persevering industry, but had begun to feel that he was slipping away from her and devoting himself to his farm.  Sometimes she indulged an angry jealousy, and then tried to persuade herself it was illogical.

“Then why give yourself another task by building the bridge?” she asked.

“I tried to explain that.  I can get the thing done with less trouble when the creek is nearly dry, and if we had to use the ford when hauling out the grain, it would mean starting with a light load or keeping a team of horses there.  When I’ve built the bridge and graded back the road we can take the full number of bags across, and that makes for economy.  It looks as if I’ll have to be severely economical soon.”

Helen colored.  She thought he did not mean to vex her, but he had ventured on dangerous ground.

“You know that what is mine is yours,” she said.

“In a way, it is, but I put all my capital into the stock and crop, and must try to get it back.  I can’t ask my wife for money if I loaf about and lose my own.”

“You don’t loaf,” Helen rejoined.  “But if you lose your crop from causes you can’t prevent happening, there is no reason you shouldn’t accept my help.”

“I know you’re generous and would give me all you had but—­”

Helen shook her head.  “You don’t see the matter in the right way yet; but we’ll let it go.  Get your jacket and come back at once.”

“Must I come?” Festing asked irresolutely.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I don’t think so.  Can’t you tell the folks I’d forgotten and started something I must finish?”

“I can’t,” said Helen sharply.  “It hurts to know you had forgotten.  The farm is lonely and I haven’t many friends; but I can’t tell outsiders how little that matters to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Festing answered with some embarrassment.  “Still I think you’re exaggerating; nobody would look at it like that.  Our neighbors know one has to stay with one’s work.”

“Bob finds time to go about with his wife.”

“He does,” said Festing dryly.  “Driving about is easier than farming, and Bob has no scruples about living on his wife’s money.  I expect that was his object when he married her.  There’s another thing I forgot; he’s coming to-night.”

“He and Sadie have been at the house some time.”

Festing made a sign of resignation.  “I could stand the others better.  They know what we may have to face, but nothing bothers Bob, and it’s hard to play up to his confounded cheerfulness when you’re not in the mood.  Then I suppose I’ve got to put on different clothes?”