ere. His mail was brought to him daily by one or
other of the neighbours, and when it seemed to John Green's kind
heart that Arthur's mail was very small and uninteresting, he brought
over several back numbers of the Orillia Packet, one of which
contained obituary verses that his own cousin had composed, and which
Mr. Green marked with wavy ink lines, so that Arthur would be sure to
see them. Mr. Green thought that his cousin's lachrymal symposium on
the uncertainty of all things human should be very comforting to
Arthur in his present mental state. Little parcels, too, came
mysteriously through the mail to Arthur. One day it was a pair of
socks, from an anonymous contributor; another time there came a pair
of woollen mittens, red and blue, done in that intricate pattern
which is known to the elect as "Fox and Geese." A little slip of
paper, pinned on the wrist of one, stated that they were "from a
friend," and Arthur shrewdly suspected that Aunt Kate Shenstone had
sent them. The evil significance of the gift was not known to the
giver, and not noticed by the recipient.

These new evidences of neighbourly solicitude carried the intended
message, for they brought to his mind the comfort of knowing that
there were loyal-hearted friends all around him who were sincerely
sorry for his disappointment.

It was a week before Arthur left his own house, and then he went for
his bread to the Perkins home. If he had not been so burdened with
his own trouble he would surely have noticed how carefully Martha was
dressed, how light her step, how happy her face. The tiny speck on
the horizon had been a sail, sure enough. It might not be coming her
way--it might never see the shipwrecked sailor--but it was a sail!

Pearlie Watson, the very day after the wedding, began to do some
hard thinking on Martha's behalf. One fact--stood out above all
others--there was a chance for Martha now, if she could only qualify.

Pearl talked it over with her Aunt Kate, who was a woman of the
world, and had seen many marriages and much giving in marriage. Aunt
Kate was hopeful, even confident, of the outcome of the present case.

"Of course Martha'll get him!" she said. "Why shouldn't she? I never
in all my life seen better hard soft soap than what she makes, and
her bread is as light as a feather, you could make a meal of it; and
now since she's took to fluffin' her hair, and dressin' up so' nice,
she's a good enough lookin' girl. She ain't as educ