red landmark.

The Tide Mill loomed out of the mist.

"Poor dear!" she said, apostrophizing it. "Are things just as desperate
as ever?"

Tears were glistening on the closed shutters, and running down the
weather-beaten sides.

"I think when the mill is crying like that, it always seems as if it
were softening a little, Thinkright. Don't you? As if there were
greater chance of its opening its eyes and taking notice once more."

Thinkright gave a low laugh. "Your miracle hasn't come to pass yet, has
it?"

"No, but I'm going to hope, still."

"That's right. If those shutters ever open I think you'll have to be
the prime mover. No one else seems to care."

"_You_ care, Thinkright," replied the girl wistfully. "There shouldn't
be anything sad or hopeless around the Mill Farm, least of all that
dear old neglected thing that named it."

"You're a very fanciful little girl," was the reply; but there was
nothing disapproving in the glance her companion bent upon her.

As they drove up to the farmhouse, the living-room door flew open, and
Minty was disclosed, prevented by her mother from going out into the
rain, and expending pent-up energy by hopping up and down with
irrepressible eagerness.

Mrs. Lem appeared behind her, wreathed in smiles, and coiffured and
arrayed in her company best.

"It's so good to be home again," cried Sylvia, "so good, so good!" and
she jumped out of the wagon and seized Minty's hands and danced around
the living-room in the rubber coat until the child's laughter rang out
gleefully.

"And how have you been, Mrs. Lem?" she asked when their breath was
gone.

"Smart," replied that lady, regarding the girl admiringly, and
wondering whether by patience and perseverance she might force her own
hair to go into the shape of Sylvia's.

"I do hope you've brought us a change in the weather," went on Mrs.
Lem. "When it hain't ben actually rainin' the past two weeks, there's
ben so much timidity in the atmosphere that I've got hoarse as a crow,
and we'll all be webfooted pretty soon if it don't clear up."

"You shall have sunshine to-morrow," declared Sylvia.

"I hain't touched the Rosy Cloud yet," said Minty, "even though you
wrote I could. Thinkright said I might let her git stove on a rock, and
he'd druther I'd wait."

"Very well, Minty, to-morrow we shall begin making up for lost time.
Let them watch us."

Cap'n Lem soon appeared, and the five made a happy supper party. During
the meal