ife said as Tammas could sleep in the kitchen to pay for
carryin' the wood an' watter, but she couldn't take us both because she
takes boarders."

Patty cocked her head for a moment of silence, as she endeavored to
pluck sense from this tangle of Tammases.

"It's too bad!" she comforted, laying a sympathetic hand on the old
woman's knee.

Gramma Flannigan's eyes filled with the ready tears of old age.

"I'm not complainin', for it's the way o' the world. The owld must step
off, an' make room for the young. But it's lonely I am without him!
We've lived together for forty-seven years, an' we know each other's
ways."

"But your son doesn't live very far away." Patty offered what solace she
might. "You must see Thomas very often."

"That an' I don't! You might as well have a husband dead, as a mile an'
a half away an' laid oop with rheumatism."

The clock pointed to a quarter of six, and the visitors rose. They had
still to walk half a mile and dress before dinner.

The old woman clung to Patty's hand at parting. She seemed to find more
comfort in the little stray sympathy that Patty had offered, than in all
her exuberant brood of grandchildren.

"Isn't it dreadful to be old, and just sit around waiting to die?" Patty
shuddered, as they faced the cold darkness outside.

"Dreadful!" Conny cordially agreed. "Hurry up! Or we'll be late for
dinner, and this is chicken night."

They turned homeward at a jog trot that left little breath for speech;
but Patty's mind was working as fast as her legs.

"I've got a perfectly splendid idea," she panted as she turned in at the
gate and trotted up the driveway toward the big lighted house that
spread wide wings to receive them.

"What?" they asked.

The quick insistent clang of the gong floated out to meet them, and on
the instant, hurrying figures flitted past the windows--the summons to
meals brought a readier response than the summons to study.

"I'll tell you after dinner. No time now," Patty returned as she peeled
off her coat.

They were unlacing their blouses as they clattered up the back stairs,
and pulling them over their heads in the upper hall.

"Go slow--please!" they implored of the down-going procession whose
track they crossed. Dinner was the only meal which might be approached
by the front stairs, which were carpeted instead of tinned.

Their evening frocks were fortunately in one piece, and they dove into
them with little ceremony. The three presen