ou did," said the widow,
indicating Miranda by a nod of her head. "And I knew her, too, just as
soon as I set eyes on her.--Well, you needn't hold any grudge against
me, Miranda Daggett. I calculate you got the best of the bargain. Ephrum
hadn't any faculty to get along. I've struggled and slaved till I'm all
worn out; and now I haven't a roof to cover me nor my children, nor a
mouthful to eat."

Miranda sprang up, her arms around both the boys.

"_I have!_ I have plenty for you all. And I've been a-wonderin' why it
should have come to me, that didn't need it; but now I know. You come
right home with me.--Mis' Bemis, you'll let Tready harness up?"

There were some objections made on account of the rain, but Miranda
overruled them all.

She drew Mrs. Bemis aside and confided to her that she didn't want
Ephrum's boys to stay even one night in the poor-house, because "it
might stick to 'em afterwards." And she shouldn't really feel that they
were going to belong to her until she had them in her own house.

So, through the driving rain, in the open wagon which was the most
luxurious equipage that the poor-farm boasted, Miranda was driven home
with her _proteges_; while Mrs. Bemis gave way to renewed anxiety about
the fall tailorin' and Dr. Pingree heaved a sigh over his vanished
dreams,--a very gentle one, he was so used to seeing dreams vanish; and
there was consolation in having such an event to talk over.

Miranda's home was a rambling old house, and it seemed deserted and
ghostly when they entered it; but Miranda kindled a fire In the kitchen
stove and another in the great fireplace in the sitting-room, and the
boys, warmed and fed and comforted, grew hilarious, and the ghosts were
all dispersed, and it seemed to Miranda for the first time like home.

When she had seen all three cosily tucked into their beds, she went
downstairs to rake over the fire and see that all was safe for the
night. She found herself too full of a happy excitement to seek her own
slumbers. Ephraim was dead; but he had faded out of her life long
before; he had been nothing but a memory, and she had that still. He
even seemed nearer to her, being in the Far Country, than he had done
before. And his children were under her roof; hers to feed and clothe
and care for in the happy days that were coming; hers to educate. What
joy to have the means to do it with! what greater joy to work and save
and manage that there should be enough!

Miranda