d in keeping one girl healthy, happy and unspoiled," said
Emily, looking up into the peaceful old face with her own lovely one
full of respect and envy.

"I do hope so, for she's my ewe lamb, the last of four dear little
girls; all the rest are in the burying ground 'side of father. I don't
expect to keep her long, and don't ought to regret when I lose her,
for Saul is the best of sons; but daughters is more to mothers
somehow, and I always yearn over girls that is left without a broodin'
wing to keep 'em safe and warm in this world of tribulation."

Aunt Plumy laid her hand on Sophie's head as she spoke, with such a
motherly look that both girls drew nearer, and Randal resolved to put
her in a book without delay.

Presently Saul returned with little Ruth hanging on his arm and shyly
nestling near him as he took the three-cornered leathern chair in the
chimney nook, while she sat on a stool close by.

"Now the circle is complete and the picture perfect. Don't light the
lamps yet, please, but talk away and let me make a mental study
of you. I seldom find so charming a scene to paint," said Randal,
beginning to enjoy himself immensely, with a true artist's taste for
novelty and effect.

"Tell us about your book, for we have been reading it as it comes out
in the magazine, and are much exercised about how it's going to
end," began Saul, gallantly throwing himself into the breach, for a
momentary embarrassment fell upon the women at the idea of sitting for
their portraits before they were ready.

"Do you really read my poor serial up here, and do me the honor to
like it?" asked the novelist, both flattered and amused, for his work
was of the aesthetic sort, microscopic studies of character, and
careful pictures of modern life.

"Sakes alive, why shouldn't we?" cried Aunt Plumy. "We have some
eddication, though we ain't very genteel. We've got a town libry, kep
up by the women mostly, with fairs and tea parties and so on. We have
all the magazines reg'lar, and Saul reads out the pieces while Ruth
sews and I knit, my eyes bein' poor. Our winter is long and evenins
would be kinder lonesome if we didn't have novils and newspapers to
cheer 'em up."

"I am very glad I can help to beguile them for you. Now tell me what
you honestly think of my work? Criticism is always valuable, and I
should really like yours, Mrs. Basset," said Randal, wondering what
the good woman would make of the delicate analysis and worldly wisdom