" she said.

A smile curved his firm lips, but the steady gray eyes were tender. "I
shouldn't call you a coward."

She shook herself and stood up. "Bruce, you're a darling. Now, will
you please go and see if the coast is clear, so I can slide up-stairs
without being seen? I must wash up before supper."

"I'd get supper," he said, "if I didn't have to milk to-night.
Promised Henry."

She shook her head positively. "I'll let you do lots of things, Bruce,
but I won't let you get supper for me--not with all the other things
you have to do."

"Oh, all right! I dare you to jump off the hay."

"Down there? Take you!" she cried, and with the word sprang into the
air.

Beside her the boy leaped, too. They landed lightly on the fragrant
mass in the bay of the barn.

"Oh," she cried, "it's like flying, isn't it! Why wasn't I brought up
on a farm?"

There was a little choke still left in her voice, and her smile was a
trifle unsteady, but her words were ready enough. In the doorway she
turned and waved to the boy and then went on, her head held high,
slender and straight and gallant, into the house.

CHAPTER XII

HOME-LOVING HEARTS

Mother Jess and Laura were coming home. Perhaps Father Bob had dropped
a hint that their presence was needed in the white house at the end of
the road; perhaps, on the other hand, they were just ready to come.
Elliott never knew for certain.

Father Bob met the train, while all the Cameron boys and girls flew
around, making ready at home. The plan had developed on the tacit
understanding that since they all wished to, it was fairer for none of
them to go to the station.

Priscilla and Prince were out watching. "They're coming!" she
squealed, skipping back into the house. "Trudy, Elliott, everybody,
they're coming!" And she was out again, darting in long swallow-like
swoops down the hill. From every direction came Camerons, running;
from house, barn, garden, young heads moved swiftly toward the little
car chug-chugging up the hill.

They swarmed over it, not giving it time to stop, jumping on the
running-board, riding on the hood, almost embracing the car itself in
the joy of their welcome. Elliott hung back. The others had the first
right. After their turns--

Without a word Aunt Jessica took the girl into her arms and held her
tight. In that strong, tender clasp all the stinging ache went out of
Elliott's hurt. She wasn't frightened any longer or bewildered or
bitter; sh