us such a jolly half-hour, as well as a drenching! Oh,
_look_--the sun!"

Through the mist of rain and the purple gloom the sun burst warm and
golden, pouring through the bare windows into the little room, touching
every corner and cranny with a cheerful glow.

"How wonderful," Nancy exclaimed. "It's the bright lining, all
right--the cloud has turned inside out! I believe," she turned to
Peter, "that when the sun does shine it shines brighter--here! You two
have magic."

"Janie and I never shut it out," laughed the sister Saphrony. "We say
it's God's way of smiling and frowning. There's no storm but what
passes and we're just mighty glad you two children came 'long this way.
Goin' to Freedom?"

Afterwards Nancy said to Peter that that had been the most curious
thing about the two friendly little old women--that they had not right
at first asked who they were nor where they were going!

Peter answered from the window. "Yes--we thought this road would be
shorter." Then, to Nancy: "Do you think we can venture now? I guess
the storm's passed."

Nancy nodded. "We'd better start. My aunts are worrying dreadfully,
I'm afraid. But we've loved it--here. May we come again sometime?
And may we not know who it is that has given us shelter?"

"Why, yes--I never thought to tell! Most folks know us, but maybe
you're new in these parts. We're Saphrony and Janie Leavitt."

"_What!_" cried Nancy with such astonishment that Peter turned from the
door. "Why, I--_I_ am Anne Leavitt!" she said in very much the same
way she had spoken in the French class, four years before.

The two little old women laughed. "I guess you're one of the Happy
House Leavitts--they're _real_ Leavitts. Sister Janie and I are only
plain Leavitts," Saphrony explained with a twinkling in her eyes that
seemed to say that to confuse real Leavitts with plain Leavitts was
very, very funny. "Are you Miss Sabriny's niece?"

Nancy avoided the question. "Aren't you any relation to us--up at
Happy House?"

"Not as anybody ever knew of. There's Leavitts and Leavitts all over
New England, I guess. We've always been poor as Job."

"Well, I shall always pretend we're related," declared Nancy, warmly,
"because it's been so nice here!"

While Peter was carefully tucking her into the seat with much lamenting
that it had gotten so wet, Nancy was staring reflectively at the funny
little weather-beaten cottage. From the door smiled the two sister