"If you can find any way of makin' a livin'
out of Hillcrest Farm, you're welcome to it. And--just as that hospital
doctor says--it may do your father good to live there for a spell. But
_me_--it always give me the fantods, it was that lonesome."

It seemed, as Aunt Jane said, "a way opened." Yet Lyddy Bray could not
see very far ahead. As she told 'Phemie that night, they could get to the
farm, bag and baggage; but how they would exist after their arrival was
a question not so easy to answer.

Lyddy had gone to one of the big grocers and bought and paid for an order
of staple groceries and canned goods which would be delivered at the
railroad station nearest to Hillcrest on Monday morning. Thus all their
possessions could be carted up to the farm at once.

She had spent the afternoon at the flat collecting the clothing, bedding,
and other articles they proposed taking with them. These goods she had
taken out by an expressman and shipped by freight before six o'clock.

In the morning she met the second-hand man at the ruined flat and he paid
her the twenty dollars as promised. And Lyddy was glad to shake the dust
of the Trimble Avenue double-decker from her feet.

As she turned away from the door she heard a quick step behind her and an
eager voice exclaimed:

"I say! I say! You're not moving; are you?"

Lydia was exceedingly disturbed. She knew that boy in the laboratory
window had been watching closely what was going on in the flat. And now
he had _dared_ follow her. She turned upon him a face of pronounced
disapproval.

"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered. "But I hope your father's better?
Nothing's happened to--to him?"

"We are going to take him away from the city--thank you," replied Lyddy,
impersonally.

She noted with satisfaction that he had run out without his cap, and in
his work-apron. He could not follow her far in such a rig through the
public streets, that was sure.

"I--I'm awful sorry to have you go," he said, stammeringly. "But I hope
it will be beneficial to your father. I--I---- You see, my own father
is none too well and we have often talked of his living out of town
somewhere--not so far but that I could run out for the week-end, you know."

Lyddy merely nodded. She would not encourage him by a single word.

"Well--I wish you all kinds of luck!" exclaimed the young fellow, finally,
holding out his hand.

"Thank you," returned the very proper Lyddy, and failed to see his
proffered