ntleman who comes here
to preach every fortnight might help."

"Elder Posey's not here but three hours or so, any time. Just long
enough to give us the word and grab a bite at somebody's house. Poor old
man! He attends three meetings each Sunday, all different, and lives on
a farm at Wingate weekdays where he has to work and support his family.

"He doesn't get but fifty dollars a year from each church, it's not
making him a millionaire very fast," pursued Aunt Kate, with a soft
little laugh. "Poor old man! I wish we could pay him more; but Pine
Camp's not rich."

"You all seem to have enough and to spare, Auntie," said Nan, who was an
observant girl for her age. "Nobody here is really poor."

"Not unless he's right down lazy," said her aunt, vigorously.

"Then I should think they'd build a proper church and give a minister
some more money, so that he could afford to have a Sunday School as
well."

"Lawsy me, Nan!" exclaimed her aunt. "The men here in Pine Camp haven't
been woke up to such things. They hate to spend that fifty dollars for
Elder Posey, they'd get a cheaper man if there were such. There's never
been much out of the common happen here at Pine Camp. It takes trouble
and destruction to wake folks up to their Christian duty in these woods.
Now, at Pale Lick they've got a church-----"

She stopped suddenly, and her face paled, while the ugly scar on her
neck seemed to glow; but that may have been only in contrast. Aunt Kate
turned away her head, and finally arose and went into her own room and
closed the door. Nan dared not continue the subject when the good woman
came out again, and the talk of a Sunday School for Pine Camp, for the
time being, was ended.

There were hours when the girl from Tillbury was very lonely indeed.
Writing to Bess and other girl friends in her old home town and penning
long letters on thin paper to Momsey and Papa Sherwood in Scotland, did
not fill all of these hours when Nan shut herself into that east room.

Sometimes she pulled down the paper shades and opened the clothes closet
door, bringing out the long box she had hidden away there on the first
day she had come to Pine Camp. In that box, wrapped in soft tissue
paper, and dressed in the loveliest gown made by Momsey's own skillful
fingers, was the great doll that had been given to Nan on her tenth
birthday.

When girls went to high school, of course they were supposed to put away
dolls, together with other childish