ep the peace.
But Mary an' 'Liza hang on to every word Martin utters. If he was to say
blue was green, they'd say so too. They'd no more do a thing he wouldn't
like 'em to than they'd cut off their heads. They wouldn't dare. I 'spect
they'll have a spasm when they see you come walkin' in to-night."

"Maybe I ought not to come," Lucy murmured in a disappointed voice.

"Yes, you ought," Jane said with decision. "Why should we keep up a
quarrel none of us approve of? Martin ain't home. It's nothin' to him."

"Well, if you're sure you want me," Lucy laughed and dimpled.

"If I hadn't wanted you, you may be pretty sure I shouldn't have asked
you," retorted Jane bluntly. "Mary an' 'Liza will likely be scat to death
at first, but they'll get over it an' thaw out. Don't pay no attention to
'em."

Jane had ascended the steps and her hand was on the latch.

"I feel like a child playing truant," said Lucy, a flush of excitement
tinting her cheek. "You see, my aunt wouldn't like my being here any more
than Mar--than your brother would."

"What they don't know won't hurt 'em," was Jane's brief answer.

"Oh, I shall tell Aunt Ellen."

"I shan't tell Martin. He'd rage somethin' awful."

She threw open the door. Lucy saw her stiffen with resolution.

"I picked up Miss Lucy Webster on the road an' brought her home to tea!"
she called from the threshold.

Mary and Eliza were busy at the kitchen table. At the words they turned
and automatically gasped the one phrase that always sprang to their lips
in every emergency:

"Oh, Jane!"

"Martin's away an' so's Ellen Webster," went on Jane recklessly. "Why
shouldn't we do a bit of neighborin' together, now we've got the chance?"

"But--but Martin!" Eliza managed to stammer.

"He'll never be the wiser--unless you tell him," replied Jane merrily.
"Come, Miss Lucy, take off your hat an' make yourself at home. Supper'll
soon be ready, I guess."

The phrase was a fortunate one, for it brought back to the disconcerted
Howes the memory of their domestic prowess, a thing in which they took
great pride. By nature they were hospitable, and here was a chance to
exercise that long unexercised faculty.

Mary bustled to the stove.

"Yes," she answered, "the biscuits are in the oven, an' I was just makin'
the tea." Then, as if emboldened by Jane's attitude, she added timidly:
"We're real glad to see you, Miss Webster; don't think we ain't."

"Yes," Eliza echoed, "we really are."

The