on his fourth week, said:

"He wished that week might hold a hundred days."

It seemed to me that since Clara came to us she had been the constant
cause of surprise either in one way or another. In herself, as an
individual, she was to me a problem of no little consequence and not
easily solved, and she was continually bringing forth something
unexpected.

The last of the third week of Louis' stay was made memorable by one of
her demonstrations. It was Wednesday evening, the last of our ironing
was finished, and mother and I were folding the clothes as we took them
down from the old-fashioned horse, when we heard her sweet voice
claiming us for special consultation.

"Mrs. Minot," she called, and we left our clothes and went into the
square room, as we called it. Father and Louis were there, and when we
were seated she began:

"Now, my dear friends, I propose to ask a favor of you. I love you three
people, and you have made me so happy here I do desire to call this spot
home for always. It seems to me I cannot feel so happy in another place,
and now you know I have many belongings in my old home in the city. I
know a lady who has met with misfortune, an old friend of my husband's
family, who is worthy, and forced at present by circumstances to earn
her living. Now may I ask you, my dear friends, to let me bring my
furniture here. Will you give me more room, that I may establish myself
just quite enough to make it pleasant, and then I can let my friend have
my house (upon condition of her retaining my old help, which I shall not
permit to be a trouble to her financially), and through your favor I may
help another. I should have asked it long ago, but I waited for my boy
to come and taste the air of your home here, and since he loves you as
well as I do, may we stay?"

And she held her little white hands toward us, and opened her blue eyes
wide.

Of course we all gladly consented.

Then she clapped her hands, and turning to Louis, said:

"Louis Robert, thank them."

And he bowed and said in his own expressive way:

"We will try to appreciate your kindness."

I knew then what the covered chairs meant, but I secretly wondered "How
on airth," as Aunt Hildy used to say, all those moveables were to be got
into our house. This thought was running through my head when Clara
spoke, crossing the room as she did so, and taking my father's hand--and
he was such a reserved man that no one else would ever have dreamed o