ell
have sent you, for Friend Henry made no time at all, but was as meek as
a mild-mannered mother sheep. It is the law, of course, and they had no
right to refuse, but I was a little afraid of a fuss, and that perhaps
they had set up the child against such ungodly people."

"Oh, how she has grown!" cried Patty. "Child, have you forgotten me?"

"Oh, no!" said Primrose a little shyly. "And my own mother liked you so.
You were my nurse----"

She slipped her hand within that of the woman.

"She was a sweet person, poor dear! It will always be a great loss to
thee, little child. Oh, madam, the eyes are the same; blue as a bit of
sky between mountains. But she is not as fair----"

"Thou must bleach her up with sour cream and softening lotions that will
not hurt the skin. There, child, go with Patty, who will get thee into
something proper. But she is like her mother in this respect, common
garb does not disfigure her."

Patty led her upstairs and through the hall into a sort of ell part
where there were two rooms. The first had a great work table with
drawers, and some patterns pinned up to the window casings that seemed
like parts of ghosts. The floor was bare, but painted yellow. There was
a high bureau full of drawers with a small oblong looking-glass on top,
a set of shelves with a few books, and numerous odds and ends, a long
bench with a chintz-covered pallet, and some chairs, beside a sort of
washing stand in the corner. The adjoining room was smaller and had two
cot beds covered with patchwork spreads.

"Yes, thou hast grown wonderfully," repeated Patty. "And who cut thy
lovely hair so short? But it curls like thy mother's. I find myself
talking Quaker to thee, though to be sure the best quality use it."

"I had so much hair and it was so warm that it hath been cut several
times this summer."

"Oh, you charming little Friend!" Patty gave her a hug and half a dozen
kisses. "I'll warrant thou hast forgotten the old times!"

"It comes back to me," and the blue eyes kindled with a soft light that
would have been entrancing in a woman. "Aunt Lois checked me when I
would have talked about them. And when I was here--it was in the other
house, I remember--I was so sad and lonely without my dear mamma."

She gave a sigh and her bosom swelled.

"Patty, I cannot understand clearly. What is death, and why does God
want people when He has so many in heaven? And a little girl has but one
mother."

"Law, child! I do