"It isn't charity," she interrupted with suddenly flashing eyes. "Oh, how I hate that word—the way it's used, I mean. Of course, the real charity means love. Love, indeed! I suppose it was LOVE that made John Daly give one hundred dollars to the Pension Fund Fair—after he'd jewed it out of those poor girls behind his counters! And Mrs. Morse went around everywhere telling how kind dear Mr. Daly was to give so much to charity! CHARITY! Nobody wants charity—except a few lazy rascals like those beggars of Flora's! But we all want our RIGHTS. And if half the world gave the other half its rights there wouldn't BE any charity, I believe."

"Dear, dear! What have we here? A rabid little Socialist?" Mr. Smith held up both hands in mock terror. "I shall be petitioning her for my bread and butter, yet!"

"Nonsense! But, honestly, Mr. Smith, when I think of all that money"— her eyes began to shine again—"and of what we can do with it, I—I just can't believe it's so!"

"But you aren't expecting that twenty millions are going to right all the wrongs in the world, are you?" Mr. Smith's eyes were quizzical.

"No, oh, no; but we can help SOME that we know about. But it isn't that I just want to GIVE, you know. We must get behind things—to the causes. We must—"

"We must make the Mr. Dalys pay more to their girls before they pay anything to pension funds, eh?" laughed Mr. Smith, as Miss Maggie came to a breathless pause.

"Exactly!" nodded Miss Maggie earnestly. "Oh, can't you SEE what we can do—with that twenty million dollars?"

Mr. Smith, his gaze on Miss Maggie's flushed cheeks and shining eyes, smiled tenderly. Then with mock severity he frowned.

"I see—that I'm being married for my money—after all!" he scolded.

"Pooh!" sniffed Miss Maggie, so altogether bewitchingly that Mr. Smith gave her a rapturous kiss.

Chapter XXV - Exit Mr. John Smith

*

Early in July Mr. Smith took his departure from Hillerton. He made a farewell call upon each of the Blaisdell families, and thanked them heartily for all their kindness in assisting him with his Blaisdell book.

The Blaisdells, one and all, said they were very sorry to have him go. Miss Flora frankly wiped her eyes, and told Mr. Smith she could never, never thank him enough for what he had done for her. Mellicent, too, with shy eyes averted, told him she should never forget what he had done for her—and for Donald.