e land, too; and I guess there won't be
many that can afford to turn up their noses at our Tom. And, mind ye,
Tom can tell a horse as well as the next one, and he's a boy that won't
waste nothin', not like some we know. Look at them Slaters now! Fred
and George have been off to college two years, big over-grown hulks
they are, and young Peter is going to the Agricultural College in
Guelph this winter, and the old man will hire a man to take care of the
stock, and him with three boys of his own. Just as if a boy can learn
about farmin' at a college! and the way them girls dress, and the old
lady, too, and her not able to speak above a whisper. The old lady
wears an ostrich feather in her bonnet, and they're a terrible costly
thing, I hear. Mind you they only keep six cows, and they send every
drop they don't use to the creamery. Everybody can do as they like, I
suppose, but I know they'll go to the wall, and they deserve it too!"

And yet!

She and Mrs. Slater had been girls together and sat in school with arms
entwined and wove romances of the future, rosy-hued and golden. When
they consulted the oracle of "Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich
man, poor man, beggar man, thief," the buttons on her gray winsey dress
had declared in favour of the "rich man." Then she had dreamed dreams
of silks and satins and prancing steeds and liveried servants, and
ease, and happiness--dreams which God in His mercy had let her forget
long, long ago.

When she had become the mistress of the big stone house, she had
struggled hard against her husband's penuriousness, defiantly
sometimes, and sometimes tearfully. But he had held her down with a
heavy hand of unyielding determination. At last she grew weary of
struggling, and settled down in sullen submission, a hopeless
heavy-eyed, spiritless women, and as time went by she became greedier
for money than her husband.

"Good-morning," Pearl said brightly. "Are you Mr. Tom Motherwell?"

"That's what!" Tom replied. "Only you needn't mind the handle."

Pearl laughed.

"All right," she said, "I want a little favor done. Will you open the
window upstairs for me?"

"Why?" Tom asked, staring at her.

"To let in good air. It's awful close up there, and I'm afraid I'll get
the fever or somethin' bad."

"Polly got it," Tom said. "Maybe that is why Polly got it. She's awful
sick now. Ma says she'll like as not die. But I don't believe ma will
let me open it."

"Where is Polly?" Pearl as