room. Rose followed. Charlotte turned to go down-stairs,
but Rose caught her arm.

"Wait a minute," said she. "Look here, Charlotte."

"What is it?"

"Charlotte," said Rose again; then she stopped.

Charlotte turned and looked at her. Rose's eyes met hers, and her
face had a noble expression.

"You write a note to him, and I'll carry it," said Rose. "I'll go
down in the field where he is, on my way home."

Tears sprang into Charlotte's eyes. "You're real good, Rose," she
said; "but I can't."

"Hadn't you better?"

"No; I can't. Don't let's talk any more about it."

Charlotte pushed past Rose's detaining hand, and the girls went
down-stairs. Mrs. Barnard looked around dejectedly at them as they
entered the kitchen. Her eyes were red, and her mouth drooping; she
was clearing the debris of the pies from the table; there was a smell
of baking, but Cephas had gone out. She tried to smile at Rose. "Are
you goin' now?" said she.

"Yes; I've got to. I've got to sew on my muslin dress. When are you
coming over, Aunt Sarah? You haven't been over to our house for an
age."

"I don't care if I never go anywhere!" cried Sarah Barnard, with
sudden desperation. "I'm discouraged." She sank in a chair, and flung
her apron over her face.

"Don't, mother," said Charlotte.

"I can't help it," sobbed her mother. "You're young and you've got
more strength to bear it, but mine's all gone. I feel worse about you
than if it was myself, an' there's so much to put up with besides. I
don't feel as if I could put up with things much longer, nohow."

"Uncle Cephas ought to be ashamed of himself!" Rose cried out.

Sarah stood up. "Well, I don't s'pose I have so much to put up with
as some folks," she said, catching her breath as if it were her
dignity. "Your Uncle Cephas means well. It did seem as if them sorrel
pies were the last straw, but I hadn't ought to have minded it."

"You haven't got to eat sorrel pies, have you?" Rose asked, in a
bewildered way.

"I don't s'pose they'll be any worse than some other things we eat,"
Sarah answered, scraping the pie-board again.

"I don't see how you can."

"I guess they won't hurt us any," Sarah said, shortly, and Rose
looked abashed.

"Well, I must be going," said she.

As she went out, she looked hesitatingly at Charlotte. "Hadn't you
better?" she whispered. Charlotte shook her head, and Rose went out
into the spring sunlight. She bent her head as she went down the road
before