landscape.

He ate his breakfast and did up the morning chores mechanically. He
seemed to be in a dream, and wondered dully to himself why he did not
cry when he felt so bad.

When the work was all done he stood idly looking out of the window. He
wanted to get away from the house where everything he saw made his
heart ache with the suggestion of Robin.

"I believe I'd like to go to church to-day," he said in a listless
tone.

[Illustration]

"Yes, I'd go if I were you," assented Mr. Dearborn readily. "Mother
and me'll have to stay by the fire to-day, but I've no doubt it'll
chirk you up a bit to get outdoors a spell."

He started off, plodding through the deep snow.

"Takes it easier than I thought he would," said Mr. Dearborn. "Well,
troubles never set very hard on young shoulders. He'll get over it in
a little while."

As Steven emerged from the lane into the big road he saw a sleigh
coming towards him, driven by the doctor's son. As it drew nearer a
sudden thought came to him like an inspiration.

"O Harvey!" he cried, running forward. "Will you take me with you as
far as Simpson's?"

"Why, yes, I guess so," answered the boy good-naturedly.

He was not surprised at the request, knowing that Mrs. Dearborn and
Mrs. Simpson were sisters, and supposing that Steven had been sent on
some errand.

It was three miles to the Simpson place, but they seemed to have
reached it in as many minutes. Harvey turned off towards his own home,
while Steven climbed out and hurried along the public road.

"Half-way there!" he said to himself. He was going to town to find
Mrs. Estel.

He was a long time on the way. A piercing wind began to blow, and a
blinding snow-storm beat in his face. He was numb with cold, hungry,
and nearly exhausted. But he thought of little Robin fifteen miles
away, crying at the strange faces around him; and for his sake he
stumbled bravely on.

He had seen Mrs. Dearborn's daughter several times. She was a kind,
good-natured woman, half-way afraid of her husband. As for Arad
Pierson himself, Steven had conceived a strong dislike. He was
quick-tempered and rough, with a loud, coarse way of speaking that
always startled the sensitive child.

Suppose Robin should refuse to be comforted, and his crying annoyed
them. Could that black-browed, heavy-fisted man be cruel enough to
whip such a baby? Steven knew that he would.

The thought spurred him on. It seemed to him that he had been days on
the