ed the package and unrolled a piece of cheap
lawn--yellow ground dotted with blue. She flung it angrily on the
floor, and ran out of the room.

Mr. Stillman turned to Rachel after a moment of dumb amazement, and
said: "You can have the dress, Rachel. I'll teach Margaret a lesson."

"I don't want it," she said. "You had no right to take Margaret's
money. You did give her the calf, and when you sold Tom's pig you gave
him his money."

"Nice girls you're raising, mother," said Mr. Stillman to his
frightened wife. "They'll be turning us out of doors next. You pick up
that lawn, miss."

Rachel did so. As she folded it, he went on: "That calf was mine. I
only meant to pay her for caring for it."

"You should have told her so, then," said his daughter, facing him
with eyes keen as his own; "but you told her if she could raise it she
might have it, and, of course, she believed you."

He raised his hand as if to strike her; then, as she did not move or
drop her eyes, he turned and left the room.

July came, but the Stillman girls did not go to the picnic. Tom and
the "hands" did; and Mrs. Lansing and her boys stopped at Stillman's
on their way and offered the girls seats in their wagon. But Mr.
Stillman said his women had to get ready for the harvest hands who
were coming next day, and Margaret said to Rachel bitterly: "We
have no decent clothes to go in anyhow." And there was much washing,
ironing, cooking, and churning done as the days went on. No wonder
Mrs. Stillman grew paler and weaker, until even her husband noticed
it, and brought her a bottle of bitters, and told the girls to "keep
mother out of the kitchen," which they indeed tried to do. But how
could the mother rest when there was so much to do? The girls could
not manage as she could, and Elizabeth seemed "so poorly;" for the
patient elder daughter, as the summer dragged along, had a pitifully
hopeless look on her pale face, and went about listlessly, as if life
had lost all interest for her.

At last there came a morning when the mother did not rise for
breakfast.

"Hadn't we better send for Dr. Lewis, father?" said Elizabeth.

"Oh, no; your mother did not sleep much, it was so hot last night.
She'll be up directly. You keep her out of the kitchen, and see you
have dinner on time. We want to finish to-day, for I expect we'll have
a storm, from the feel of the air."

Noon came. Dinner for a dozen hungry men was on the table, and still
Mrs. Stillman wa