It's because I do.

And it's not because I don't love Ross either:--it's because I _do._ I want to take care of you, Mother, and make life easier for you as long as you live.

I want to help him--to help carry that awful load--and I'm going--to--do--it!" She stood up hastily, for a step sounded on the back porch.

It was only her sister, who hurried in, put a dish on the table, kissed her mother and took another rocking-chair.
"I just ran in," said she, "to bring those berries.

Aren't they beauties?
The baby's asleep.