teful smile,
and then glanced up at her own image in the glass, nodding her head in
thankful peace. She was the enduring portrait. In herself, she might
even see her mother grow very old. So the hours slipped on into dusk,
and she sat there with her dream, knowing, though it was only a dream,
how sane it was, and good. When wheels came rattling into the yard, she
awoke with a start, and John's voice, calling to her in an inexplicable
alarm, did not disturb her. She had had her day. Not all the family
fates could take it from her now. John kept calling, even while his wife
and children were climbing down, unaided, from the great carryall. His
voice proclaimed its own story, and Lucy Ann heard it with surprise.

"Lucy! Lucy Ann!" he cried. "You here? You show yourself, if you're all
right."

Before they reached the front door, Lucy Ann had opened it and stood
there, gently welcoming.

"Yes, here I be," said she. "Come right in, all of ye. Why, if that
ain't Ezra, too, an' his folks, turnin' into the lane. When 'd you plan
it?"

"Plan it! we didn't plan it!" said Mary testily. She put her hand on
Lucy Ann's shoulder, to give her a little shake; but, feeling mother's
poplin, she forbore.

Lucy Ann retreated before them into the house, and they all trooped in
after her. Ezra's family, too, were crowding in at the doorway; and the
brothers, who had paused only to hitch the horses, filled up the way
behind. Mary, by a just self-election, was always the one to speak.

"I declare, Lucy!" cried she, "if ever I could be tried with you, I
should be now. Here we thought you was at Ezra's, an' Ezra's folks
thought you was with us; an' if we hadn't harnessed up, an' drove over
there in the afternoon, for a kind of a surprise party, we should ha'
gone to bed thinkin' you was somewhere, safe an' sound. An' here you've
been, all day long, in this lonesome house!"

"You let me git a light," said Lucy Ann calmly. "You be takin' off your
things, an' se' down." She began lighting the tall astral lamp on the
table, and its prisms danced and swung. Lucy Ann's delicate hand did not
tremble; and when the flame burned up through the shining chimney, more
than one started, at seeing how exactly she resembled grandma, in the
days when old Mrs. Cummings had ruled her own house. Perhaps it was the
royalty of the poplin that enwrapped her; but Lucy Ann looked very
capable of holding her own. She was facing them all, one hand resting on
the ta