made music that
drove away "that lonesome feeling." And when it actually bubbled over and
the drip of it fell hissing into the fire, 'Phemie laughed as though it
were a great joke.

"Such a jolly thing as an open fire is, I declare," she said, sitting down
at last in one of the low, splint-bottomed chairs, when the supper dishes
were put away. "I don't blame Grandfather Phelps for refusing to allow
stoves to be put up in his day."

"I fancy it would take a deal of wood to heat the old house in real cold
weather," Lyddy said. "But it _is_ cheerful."

"Woo-oo! woo-oo-oo!" moaned the wind around the corner of the house. A
ghostly hand rattled a shutter. Then a shrill whistle in the chimney
startled them.

At such times the sisters talked all the faster--and louder. It was really
quite remarkable how much they found to say to each other.

They wondered how father was getting along at the hospital, and if Aunt
Jane would surely see him every day or two, and write them. Then they
exchanged comments upon what they had seen of Bridleburg, and finally
fell back upon the Pritchetts as a topic of conversation--and that family
seemed an unfailing source of suggestion until finally 'Phemie jumped
up, declaring:

"What's the use of this, Lyd? Let's go to bed. We're both half scared to
death, but we'll be no worse off in bed----And, b-r-r-r! the fire's going
down."

They banked the fire as Lucas had advised them, put out the lamp, and
retired with the candle to the bedroom. The straw mattress rustled as
though it were full of mice, when the sisters had said their prayers and
climbed into bed. 'Phemie blew out the candle; but she had laid matches
near it on the high stand beside her pillow.

"I hope there _are_ feather beds in the garret," she murmured, drowsily.
"This old straw is _so_ scratchy."

"We'll look to-morrow," Lyddy said. "Aunt Jane said we could make use of
anything we found here. But, my! it's a big house for only three people."

"It is," admitted 'Phemie. "I'd feel a whole lot better if it was full of
folks."

"I have it!" exclaimed Lyddy, suddenly. "We might take boarders."

"Summer boarders?" asked her sister, curiously.

"I--I s'pose so."

"That's a long way ahead. It's winter yet," and 'Phemie snuggled down
into her pillow. "Folks from the city would never want to come to an old
house like this--with so few conveniences in it."

"_We_ like it; don't we?" demanded Lyddy.

"I don't know whether we