lingly approached. "She will be just such another when she
gets to be as old as you, I am sure.

"And of course, this is Ruth," and she welcomed the oldest Corner House
girl, too. "Four such splendid girls must make their mother's heart
glad."

"I hope we did make her glad when she was with us," Ruth said quietly.
"But we have no mother now; and no father."

"Oh, my dear!" cried the invalid, in quite a shocked tone. "I had no
idea----"

"We miss our mother and our father. Even Dot can remember them both,"
said Ruth, still calmly. "But it happened so long ago that we do not cry
about it any more--do we, girls?"

As the oldest sister spoke, the other three seemed to be involuntarily
drawn to her. Dot took one hand and snuggled it against her soft, dark
cheek. Tess put both arms about Ruth's neck and warmly kissed her. Agnes
already had her arm around her elder sister's waist.

"I see," said Mrs. Buckham, with sudden appreciation. "The others do not
miss the lost and gone mother, for a very good reason. I am sure you
have done your duty, Ruth Kenway."

"I have tried to," Ruth said simply. "And they have all been good
children, and helped."

"I ain't a doubt of it--I ain't a doubt of it," repeated Mrs. Buckham,
briskly.

Agnes was watching the changing expression of the old lady's face,
wondering if--as Neale had said--Mr. Buckham could not write, the
invalid had sent in the list of girls' names to the principal of the
Milton High. The old farmer himself might be unlettered; but Mrs.
Buckham, Agnes was sure, must have had some book education.

Right at the invalid's hand, indeed, were two shelves fastened under the
window sill, filled with books--mostly of a religious character. And
their bindings showed frequent handling.

Posy brought in the steaming tea urn. "Come on now, folks," said Mrs.
Buckham. "I'm just a honin' for a cup of comfort. That's what I call it.
Tea is my favorite tipple--and I expect I'm just as eager for it as a
poor drunkard is after liquor. Dear me! I never could blame them that
has the habit for drink. I love my cup of comfort too well."

Posy was putting Tess and Dot into their chairs. The farmer awoke from
his brown study, got up, stretched himself, and, with a smile, wheeled
his wife's chair to the table.

"There ye be, Marm," he said. "All right?"

"All right, Bob," she assured him.

"Yes," the farmer said, turning to the children with a broader smile,
"you ask your friend, Mr