f the large, white-columned,
porticoed house, on the spacious veranda of which sat a fair-haired
young woman with luminous eyes and smiling mouth. The smile deepened
as she saw the curiously disfigured horse ambling up to the stone
step.

"Whoa, Old Hundred!" commanded David, whereupon the smile became a
rippling laugh. David got out, lifted the little girl to the ground
very carefully, and gave a helping hand to the nimble, independent
Janey.

"Mother," cried Carey delightedly, "this is Janey and her 'dopted
brother David."

David touched his cap gravely in acknowledgment of the introduction.
He had never heard his name pronounced as this little girl spoke it,
with the soft "a." It sounded very sweet to him.

"I'll drive back for you before sundown, Janey," said David, preparing
to climb into the wagon.

"No," objected Carey, regarding him with apprehension, "I want you to
stay and play with me. Tell him to stay, mother."

There was a regal carriage to the little head and an imperious
note--the note of an only child--in her voice.

"Maybe David has other things to do than to play with little girls,"
said her mother, "but, David, if you can stay, I wish you would."

"I should like to stay," replied David earnestly, "but they expect me
back, and Old Hundred is needed in the field."

"Luke can drive your horse back, and we will see that you and Janey
ride home."

So Carey, with a hand to each of her new playmates, led them across
the driveway to the rolling stretch of shaded lawn. The lady watched
David as he submitted to be driven as a horse by the little girls and
then constituted himself driver to his little team of ponies as he
called them. Later, when they raced to the meadow, she saw him hold
Janey back that Carey might win. Presently the lady was joined by her
husband.

"Where is Carey?" he asked.

"She is having great sport with a pretty little girl and a guardian
angel of a boy. Here they come!"

They were trooping across the lawn, the little girls adorned with
blossom wreaths which David had woven for them.

"May we go down to the woods--the big woods?" asked Carey.

"It's too far for you to walk, dear," remonstrated her mother.

"David says he'll draw me in my little cart."

"Who is it that was afraid to go into the big woods, and thought it
was a forest filled with wild beasts and scary things?" demanded Mr.
Winthrop.

The earnest eyes fixed on his were not at all abashed.

"With him