ut aren't you at all anxious to
see your sister and little niece?"

Most earnestly, I replied that I was. Nevertheless, as grandma was
away, I could not leave the place until after the day's work was done.
Then I enumerated what was before me. He agreed that there was quite
enough to keep me busy, yet insisted that I ought to keep the
appointment for four o'clock. After his departure, I rushed out to
grandpa, told him who had come and gone, and what had passed between
us. He too, regretted the situation, but promised that I should spend
the evening at the hotel.

I fairly flew about my work that afternoon, and my brain was as active
as my hands and feet. I was certain that brother and sister had come
for us, and the absorbing query was, "How did they happen to arrive at
this particular time?" I also feared there was more trouble before me,
and remembered my promise to grandma with twinges of regret.

At half-past four, I was feeding the hens in the yard, and, looking up,
saw a strange carriage approaching. Instantly, I guessed who was in it,
and was at the gate before it stopped. Elitha greeted me kindly, but
not cordially. She asked why I had not come as requested, and then
said, "Go, bring the silver thimble Frances left here, and the coral
necklace I gave you."

In my nervous haste I could not find the thimble, but carried out the
necklace. She next bade me take the seat beside her, thus disclosing
her intention of carrying me on, picking up Georgia and proceeding to
Sacramento. She was annoyed by my answer and disappointed in what she
termed my lack of pride. Calling my attention to my peculiar style of
dress and surroundings, to my stooped shoulders and callous hands, she
bade me think twice before I refused the comfortable home she had to
offer.

When assured that I would gladly go on Saturday, but was unwilling to
leave in grandma's absence, she did not urge further, simply inquired
the way to Georgia, and left me.

I was nursing my disappointment and watching the disappearing carriage,
when Mr. Knipp, the brewer, with his load of empty kegs drew up, and
asked what I was thinking about so hard. It was a relief to see his
jolly, good-natured face, and I told him briefly that our people were
in town and wished to take us home with them. He got down from his
wagon to say confidentially:

"Thou must not leave grandpa and grandma, because the old man is always
kind to thee, and though she may sometimes wag a