mileage.

The weather had grown very hot again, and everyone, including the horse,
was feeling the effects, while Rupert and Ducky, the most delicate of
the party, were almost in a state of collapse. Rupert, according to his
wont, made no complaint at all, but Ducky, who had less self-control,
enquired fifty times a day how soon it would be before they could live
in a nice cool house again, and have beds with sheets to them.

Sylvia did her utmost to keep these plaints from reaching the ears of
Nealie, for surely the elder sister had more than enough of worry and
care. Sylvia had never troubled herself about things of this sort in the
days at Beechleigh, when she had been as irresponsible in her way as
either Don or Billykins, but the long journey and the sense of
responsibility in being so peculiarly on their own had steadied her and
developed her character in quite a wonderful manner.

She rigged Ducky up a little shelter at the back of the wagon, because
it was cooler there, and the dust was less. Then she would walk behind
for miles, finding all sorts of things to interest the petulant little
maiden, and beguile her from fretting, while Rupert sat on the front
seat and drove.

By this time the boots of the most active members of the family began to
show signs of heavy wear and tear; but that really mattered very little,
as the weather was for the most part dry, and they had all a spare pair
to put on if those in active use became too aged to be worn.

One day which followed a succession of other hot days Sylvia paused at a
little wooden house by the roadside to interview a woman who had eggs
and milk to sell. Even after the purchasing was completed she lingered
talking to the woman, while the wagon lumbered on along a winding road
that gave peeps of exquisite beauty here and there, where a river valley
opened to view.

Presently she came running to overtake the wagon, crying, in an excited
fashion: "Nealie, Nealie, what do you think?"

"I think a good many things when I have time, but I have not had much
lately, and so the thinking has not been done," replied Nealie, who was
riding this morning because she had stockings to darn. They washed their
stockings most nights, and hung them on the tilt of the wagon to dry in
the morning, and then it was Nealie's business to darn them, while
Rupert drove; and as so much walking induced holes and thin places in
every direction, the task was one of magnitude.

"The w