s,
Roberta and Ruth Gray. It was the midwinter vacation at the school where
Roberta taught and at the equally desirable establishment where Ruth was
taking a carefully selected course of study. Uncle Rufus and Aunt Ruth
had invited them to spend the four days of this vacation at their
country home, according to a custom they had of decoying one or another
of the young people of Rufus's brothers' families to come and visit the
aunt and uncle whose own children were all married and gone, sorely
missed by the young-hearted pair. Roberta and Ruth had accepted eagerly,
always delighted to spend a day or a month at the "Gray Farm," a most
attractive place even in winter, and in summer a veritable
pleasure-ground of enjoyment.

They all wanted to go to town, the three "girls," including the
white-haired one whose face was almost as young as her nieces' as she
looked out from the rear seat of the comfortable double sleigh driven by
her husband and drawn by a pair of the handsomest horses the countryside
could boast. It was only two miles from the fine old country homestead
to the centre of the neighbouring village, and though the air was keen
nobody was cold among the robes and rugs with which the sleigh
overflowed.

"You folks want to do any shopping?" inquired Uncle Rufus, as he drove
briskly along the lower end of Eastman's principal business street. "I
suppose there's no need of asking that. When doesn't a woman want to go
shopping?"

"Of course we do," Ruth responded, without so much as consulting the
back seat.

"I meant to bring some lavender linen with me to work on," said Roberta
to Aunt Ruth. "Where do you suppose I could find any, here?"

"Why, I don't know, dearie," responded Aunt Ruth doubtfully. "White
linen you ought to get anywhere; but lavender--you might try at Artwell
& Chatford's. We'll go past Benson's, but it's no use looking there any
more. Everybody's expecting poor Hugh to fail any day."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Roberta warmly. "I always liked Hugh Benson. Mr.
Westcott told me some time ago that he was afraid Hugh wasn't
succeeding."

"The store's been closed to the public a fortnight now," explained Uncle
Rufus over his shoulder. "Hugh hasn't failed yet, and something's going
on there; nobody seems to know just what. Inventory, maybe, or getting
ready for a bankrupt sale. The Benson sign's still up just as it was
before Hugh's father died. Windows covered with white soap or whitewash.
Some say