three children also, a lad of sixteen and two
younger girls, one of whom was devoted to the poor old grandmother.
There was nothing to do but to offer them a home, James Henry felt, for
Lois would want to make her mother's declining years as comfortable as
possible. They were not penniless, but the income was small, and the
farm in debt, so it was judged best to sell it and invest the money for
the children. Penn Morgan was a stout young fellow and would be of much
assistance to Uncle James, while he was learning to do for himself.
Rachel, at fourteen, was very womanly, and little Faith was ten.

All this had happened during March. James Henry paid little attention to
outside matters. He was prosperous enough under the King's rule, he
thought, and he was not a man to take up the larger questions.

"We can hardly have thy brother's child here this season," Lois Henry
said to her husband one evening as she sat in her straight-backed chair,
too tired even to knit when the cares of the day were over, and the
poor, half-demented mother safely asleep.

He looked up in anger. "Not have her here?" he repeated vaguely.

"There is so much more care for me. Rachel is a great help and a
comforting maiden. I never thought anyone could come so near to the
place of the lost ones, the daughters I had hoped would care for my old
age. Faith is gentle and tractable, but two children so nearly of an
age, yet with such a different training, would lead to no end of
argument and do each other no good. I dare say Madam Wetherill has used
her best efforts to uproot our ways and methods."

"That would be a small and unjust thing, remembering her father's
faith."

There was something not quite a smile crossed Lois' face, so tired now
that a few of the placid lines had lost their sweetness.

"Yet it was what we did, James." Lois had a great sense of fair-dealing
and truth-telling. So far she had had no bargains to make with the
world, nor temptations to get the better of anyone. "We thought it our
duty to instruct her in her father's faith and keep her from the
frivolities that were a snare to her mother. I dare say Madam Wetherill
looks at the reverse side for her duty. They go to Christ Church, Andrew
said, and though christening signifieth nothing to us, she may impress
the child with a sense of its importance. Then the Wetherill House has
been very gay this winter. Friend Lane said there was gaming and
festivities going on every night,