better if I leave them. So I'll
see if I can't help Debby about getting tea."

There was not much said for a time, however. Mrs Inglis evidently made
a great effort to say something, and asked about Frank and the family
generally, and then said something about his journey, and then about the
sudden breaking-up of the winter roads. Mr Oswald felt it to be cruel
to make her speak at all, and turned to the children.

"Which is Davie?" asked he, in a little.

David rose and came forward.

"I thought you had been older. Frank seemed to speak as if you were
almost a man," said he, holding out his hand.

"I am past fourteen," said David.

"And are you ready for the university, as Frank thought, or is that a
mistake of his, too?"

"Yes," said David. "I am almost ready."

"Oh! he was ready long ago," said Jem, coming to the rescue. "Frank
said he was reading the same books that his brother read in the second
year."

"Indeed!" said Mr Oswald, smiling at his eagerness. "And you are Jem?
You are neither of you such giants as I gathered from Frank, but perhaps
the mistake was mine. But when one hears of horse-shoeing and Homer--
you know one thinks of young men."

"And this is Violet, only we call her Letty; and this is Ned, and I am
Jessie, and this is wee Polly," said Jessie, a sturdy little maiden of
eight, looking with her honest grey eyes straight into Mr Oswald's
face. He acknowledged her introduction by shaking hands with each as
she named them.

"I find I have made another mistake," said he. "I thought Letty was a
little girl who always stood at the head of her class, and who could run
races with her brothers, and gather nuts, and be as nice as a boy. That
was Frank's idea."

"And so she can," said Ned.

"And so she is," said Jem.

"That was so long ago," said Violet, in confusion.

It seemed ages ago to all the children.

"And Violet has grown a great deal since then," said Jem. "And are
Frank's eyes better?"

"They are no worse. We hope they are better, but he cannot use them
with pleasure, poor fellow."

And so they went on talking together, till they were called to tea.
Miss Bethia was quite right. He did not in the least know how to begin
to say what he knew must be said before he went away.

After tea, the younger children went to bed, and Miss Bethia betook
herself to the kitchen and Debby, thinking, to herself, it would be well
for all concerned if it should fall to her to str