Roger had grown naturally, and healthily, thus far.  He had surpassed the average boy on the play-ground, and had fallen slightly below him in the school-house, but more from indifference and self-assurance than lack of ability.  Even his father’s narrow thrift could not complain of his work when he would work, but while a little fellow he was inclined to independence, and persisted in having a goodly share of his time for the boyish sports in their season, and for all the books of travel and adventure he could lay his hands upon.  In spite of scoldings and whippings he had sturdily held his own, and at last his father had discovered that Roger could be led much better than driven, and that by getting him interested, and by making little agreements, like that concerning the buggy, the best of the bargain could always be obtained, for the youth would then work with a will and carry out his verbal contracts in a large, good-natured way.  Therefore Mildred’s belief that he was good raw material for her humanizing little experiment had a better foundation than she knew.  Indeed, without in the least intending it, she might awaken a spirit that would assert itself in ways as yet undreamed of by either of them.  The causes which start men upon their careers are often seemingly the most slight and causal.  Mildred meant nothing more than to find a brief and kindly-natured pastime in softening the hard lives and in rounding the sharp angles of the Atwood family, and Roger merely came in for his share of her attention.  Flesh and spirit, however, are not wood and stone, and she might learn in deep surprise that her light aesthetic touches, while producing pleasing changes in externals, had also awakened some of the profoundest motives and forces that give shape and color to life.

In smiling ignorance of such possibilities, she said to him as she came out on the porch dressed for church, “You have given your mother and me also a pleasant surprise, and we shall enjoy our ride to church far more, not only because the wagon is nice and clean, but also because of your thoughtfulness of our pleasure.  The wagon looked so inviting from our windows that I have induced my mother to go, and to take the children.  I think they will keep still.  We will sit near the door, and I can take them out if they get tired.”

Her words were very simple, but she spoke them with a quiet grace all her own, while pulling her glove over a hand that seemed too small and white for any of the severer tasks of life.  As she stood there in her pretty summer costume, a delicate bloom in her cheeks relieving the transparent fairness of her complexion, she seemed to him, as Amelia Stone had said, perfect indeed—­and the young girl could not suppress a smile at the almost boyish frankness of his admiration.

“You gave me a pleasant surprise, also,” he said, flushing deeply.

“I?” with a questioning glance.

“Yes.  You have brought about a pleasant change, and made breakfast something more than eating.  You have made me feel that I might be less nigh of kin to Jotham than I feared.”