st as well. You'd better take off your
things an' lay down a little while on that sofa there, an' get
rested."

Lois seldom cried, but she burst out now in a piteous wail. "O
mother," sobbed she, "what does it mean? I can't-- What does it mean?
Oh, I'm so frightened! Mother, you frighten me so! What does it
mean?"

Her mother went up to her, and stood close at her side. "Lois," said
she, with trembling solemnity, "can't you trust mother?"

"O mother, I don't know! I don't know! You frighten me dreadfully."
Lois shrank away from her mother as she wept.

Mrs. Field stood over her, but she did not offer to touch her.
Indeed, this New England mother and daughter rarely or never caressed
each other. "Lois, dear child, mother don't want you to feel so. Oh,
you dear child, you dear child, you don't know what mother's goin'
through. But it ain't anything to you. Lois, you remember that; it
ain't anything you've done. It's all my doin's. I'm jest goin' to get
that money back. An' it's right I should. Don't you worry nothin'
about it. Now take your hat off, an' let mother tuck you up on the
sofa."

Lois, sobbing still, began pulling off her hat mechanically. Her
mother got a pillow, and she lay down on the sofa, turning her face
to the wall with another outburst of tears. Her mother spread her
black shawl carefully over her.

"Now you lay here still, an' get rested," said she. "I'm goin' out in
the kitchen, an' see if I can't start up a fire an' get something for
supper."

Mrs. Field went out of the room. Soon her tall black figure sped
stealthily past the windows out of the yard. She found a grocery
store, and purchased some small necessaries. There were groceries
already in the pantry at the Maxwell house. She had spied them, but
would not touch a single article. She bought some tea, and when she
returned, replaced the drawing she had taken that morning from the
Maxwell caddy.

The old woman's will, always vigorous, never giving place to another
except through its own choice, now whipped by this great stress into
a fierce impetus, carried her daughter's, strong as it was for a
young girl, before it. Lois lay quietly on the sofa. When her mother
called her, she went out in the kitchen and ate her supper.

They retired early. Lois lay on the sofa until her mother came in and
stood over her with a lighted lamp.

"I guess you'd better get up and go to bed now, Lois," said she. "I'm
goin' myself, if it is early. I'm p