true!"

Mechanically she turned back to the house, and her comrade in misery,
catching a glimpse of her disturbed face, cried in alarm, "Can't you
find any of them?"

"Yes, they have been to the depot."

"The little rascals! Without so much as asking leave! And it is such
a long walk for Rosslyn and Janie!"

"I suppose Billiard put them up to it," Tabitha murmured, glad that
Glory had not asked about Miss Davis; and she fell to dishing up
potatoes with such reckless energy that the hot fat slopped over and
blistered her hand.

"Oh!" cried Gloriana pityingly, "you have burned yourself. Let me
finish taking them up."

"No, it's nothing. Serves me right for getting so provoked. I do wish
I could learn to control my temper."

Gloriana remained discreetly silent, thinking that Tabitha was angry
because of the children's latest escapade; and in silence they finished
dinner preparations, both waiting anxiously, nervously for the
runaways' return.

At length they heard them coming up the steep path from town, and Susie
flew through the door with two letters in her hand. "They are both for
you, Tabitha," she panted. "One's from mamma. I'd know her writing in
the dark. Miss Davis didn't come on to-day's train, but I s'pose
likely she'll be here to-morrow, don't you think?"

Tabitha snatched the envelopes from Susie's outstretched hand, and
ripped them open with one stroke of the knife she held, muttering
feverishly, "The other is from Miss Davis." Her quick eyes swept the
page at a single glance, it seemed, and a smothered groan escaped her.

"What is it?" ventured Gloriana timidly, the morning's foreboding
gripping her anew.

"She has broken her leg."

"Broken her leg!" repeated the red-haired girl dully.

"Broken her leg!" echoed mystified Susie.

"Who? Mamma?"

"Miss Davis."

"Holy snakes!"

"Why, Susie!"

"I mean--I--I--that just slipped out accidental. I was so s'prised at
wondering what we'd do with a broken-legged woman hopping around here."

"But she won't be hopping around here," Tabitha grimly told her. "She
must stay flat on her back in bed for three weeks, and then it will be
days and days before she can get around without a crutch."

"Then--who--will housekeep--for us?" gasped Susie. "I reckon it is up
to you to stay a while longer. Mrs. Goodale's grand-baby's got the
fever and she is going to stay in Carson City until he's well. He is
the only grandbaby she's got."

"How