Now for a few days Theodore King had had in mind a plan which, as he contemplated it, gave him great delight. He had decided to send Jinnie Grandoken away to school, to a school where she would learn the many things he considered necessary.

So one morning at Jinnie’s lesson hour he appeared at the cobbler’s shop and was received by Lafe with his usual grave smile.

“Jinnie’s at the master’s,” said Mr. Grandoken, excusing the girl’s absence.

“Yes, I know. The fact is, I wanted to talk with you and Mrs. Grandoken.”

Lafe looked at him critically.

“Bobsie,” said he to the blind boy, “call Peggy, will you?”

When the woman and child came in hand in hand, Peggy bowed awkwardly to Mr. King. Somehow, when this young man appeared with his aristocratic manner and his genial, friendly advances, she was always embarrassed.

Theodore cleared his throat.

“For some time,” he began, “I’ve had in mind a little plan for Miss Jinnie, and I do hope you’ll concur with me in it.”

He glanced from the cobbler to his wife, and Lafe replied, 202

“You’ve been too kind already, Mr. King––”

“It isn’t a question of kindness, my dear Mr. Grandoken. As I’ve told you before, I’m very much interested in your niece.”

Bobbie slipped from Mrs. Grandoken and went close to the speaker.

“She’s my Jinnie,” breathed the boy with a saintly smile.

Theodore laughed.

“Yes, I know that, my lad, but you want her to be happy, don’t you?”

“She is happy,” interjected Lafe, trembling.

“You might tell us your plan,” broke in Peg sourly, who always desired to get the worst over quickly.

“Well, it is to send her away to school for a few years.”

Bobbie gave a little cry and staggered to Peg, holding out his hands. She picked him up, with bitterness depicted in her face. But when she looked at her husband she was shocked, for he was leaning against the wall, breathing deeply.

“I knew the thought of letting her go would affect you, Mr. Grandoken,” soothed Theodore. “That’s why I came alone. Jinnie’s so tender-hearted I feared the sight of your first grief might cause her to refuse.”

“Does she know you was goin’ to ask us this?” demanded Peg suspiciously.

Mr. King shook his head.

“Of course not! If she had, she and I would have asked it together.”

“God bless ’er!” murmured Lafe. “You see it’s like this, sir: Peg and me don’t want to stand in her light.”

“I won’t let my Jinnie go,” sighed Bobbie. “I haven’t any stars when she’s gone.”

“The poor child’s devoted to her,” excused Lafe. “That’s what makes him act so about it.” 203

Theodore’s sympathy forced him to his feet.

“So I see,” said he. “Come here, young man! I want to talk to you a minute.”

Reluctantly Bobbie left Mrs. Grandoken, and Theodore, sitting again, took him on his knee.

“Now, Bobbie, look at me.”

Bobbie turned up a wry, tearful face.

“I’ve got my eyes on you, sir,” he wriggled.

“That’s right! Don’t you want your Jinnie to learn a lot of things and be a fine young lady?”

“She is a fine young lady now,” mumbled Bobbie stubbornly, “and she’s awful pretty.”

“True,” acquiesced Theodore, much amused, “but she must study a lot more.”

“Lafe could learn her things,” argued Bobbie, sitting up very straight. “Lafe knows everything.”

Mr. King smiled and glanced at the cobbler, but Lafe’s face was so drawn and white that Theodore looked away again. He couldn’t make it seem right that he should bring about such sorrow as this, yet the thought of Jinnie and what he wanted her to be proved a greater argument with him than the grief of her family.

“I’ve told you, sir,” Lafe repeated, “and I say again, my wife and me don’t want to stand in our girl’s light. She’ll decide when she comes home.”

Theodore got up, placing Bobbie on his feet beside him.

“I hope she’ll think favorably of my idea, then,” said he, “and to-morrow I’ll see her and make some final arrangements.”

After he had gone, Peggy and Lafe sat for a long time without a word.

“Go to the kitchen, Bobbie,” said Mrs. Grandoken presently, “and give Happy Pete a bit of meat.”

The boy paused in his stumbling way to the kitchen. 204

“I don’t want my Jinnie to go away,” he mumbled.

When the door closed on the blind child, Peggy shook her shoulders disdainfully.

“She’ll go, of course,” she sneered.

“An’ we can’t blame ’er if she does, Peg,” answered Lafe sadly. “She’s young yet, an’ such a chance ain’t comin’ every day.”

The woman got heavily to her feet.

“I hate ’er, but the house’s dead when she ain’t in it,” and she went rapidly into the other room.

Jinnie came into the shop wearily, but one look at the cobbler brought her to a standstill. She didn’t wait to take off her hat before going directly to him.

“Lafe—Lafe dear, you’re sick. Why, honey dear––”

“I ain’t very well, Jinnie darlin’. Would you mind askin’ Peggy to come in a minute?”

Mrs. Grandoken looked up as the girl came in.

“Lafe wants you, Peg. He’s sick, isn’t he? What happened to him, Peggy?”

Bobbie uttered a whining cry.

“Jinnie,” he called, “Jinnie, come here!”

Peg pushed the girl back into the little hall.

“You shut up, Bobbie,” she ordered, “and sit there! Jinnie’ll come back in a minute.”

Then the speaker shoved the girl ahead of her into the shop and stood with her arms folded, austerely silent.

“I want to know what’s the matter,” insisted Jinnie.

“You tell ’er, Peg. I just couldn’t,” whispered Lafe.

Mrs. Grandoken drew a deep breath and ground her teeth.

“You’ve got to go away, kid,” she began tersely, dropping into a chair.

Jinnie blanched in fright.

“My uncle!” she exclaimed, growing weak-kneed. 205

“No such thing,” snapped Peg. “You’re goin’ to a fine school an’ learn how to be a elegant young lady.”

“Who said so?” flashed Jinnie.

“Mr. King,” cut in Lafe.

Then Jinnie understood, and she laughed hysterically. For one blessed single moment her woman’s heart told her that Theodore would not be so eager for her welfare if he didn’t love her.

“Was that what made your tears, Lafe?”

Her eyes glistened as she uttered the question.

Lafe nodded.

“And what made Bobbie cry so loud?”

“Yes.”

“Was Mr. King here?”

“Sure,” said Peg.

“And he said I was to go away to school, eh?”

“Yes,” repeated Peg, “an’ of course you’ll go.”

Jinnie went forward and placed a slender hand on Lafe’s shoulder. Then she faced Mrs. Grandoken.

“Didn’t you both know me well enough to tell him I wouldn’t go for anything in the world?”

If a bomb had been placed under Mrs. Grandoken’s chair, she wouldn’t have jumped up any more quickly, and she flung out of the door before Jinnie could stop her. Then the girl wound her arms about the cobbler’s neck.

“I wouldn’t leave you, dear, not for any school on earth,” she whispered. “Now I’m going to tell Mr. King so.”

Jinnie sped along Paradise Road and into the nearest drug store. It took her a few minutes to find Theodore’s number, and when she took off the receiver, she had not the remotest idea how to word her refusal. She only remembered Lafe’s sad face and Bobbie’s sharp, agonizing calling of her name. 206

“I want to speak to Mr. King,” she said in answer to a strange voice at the other end of the wire.

Her voice was so low that a sharp reply came back.

“Who’d you want?”

“Theodore King.”

She waited a minute and then another voice, a voice she knew and loved, said,

“This is Mr. King!”

“I’m Jinnie Grandoken,” Theodore heard. “I wanted to tell you I wouldn’t go away from home ever; no, never! I wouldn’t; I couldn’t!”

“Don’t you want to study?” Mr. King asked eagerly.

Jinnie shook her head as if she were face to face with him.

“I’m studying all the time,” she said brokenly, “and I can’t go away now. If they couldn’t spare me one day, they couldn’t all the time.”

“Then I suppose that settles it,” was the reluctant reply. “I hoped you’d be pleased, but never mind! I’ll see you very soon.”

“I told him!” said Jinnie, facing the cobbler. “Now, Lafe, don’t ever think I’m going away, because I’m not. I’ve got some plans of my own for us all when I’m eighteen. Till then I stay right here.”

At dinner Peg cut off a very large piece of meat and flung it on Jinnie’s plate.

“I suppose you’re plumin’ yourself because you didn’t go to school; but you needn’t, ’cause nothin’ could drag you from this shop, an’ there’s my word for it.” Then she glanced at Lafe, and ended, “If ’er leg was nailed to your bench, she wouldn’t be any tighter here. Now eat, all of you, an’ keep your mouths shut.”