o the sympathy.
"I wouldn't mind caring for her myself entirely, but Aunt Margaret--I
mean we all feel a little afraid for Mary--she's not strong. And, to
tell you the truth, Auntie Jinit," she added hesitatingly, "I don't
quite know what to do with poor Eppie."

"Hoots, lassie." Auntie Jinit's voice was very sympathetic. She was
beginning to understand fully. "There's mair folk than ah can name
that's jist wearyin' to tak the bairn. There's Tom Teeter----"

"But granny could never give her proper care, auntie, and it wouldn't
be right to burden her."

"Weel, there's Noah Clegg, an' there's yer ain Mother MacAllister, aye,
an' there's Jinit Martin, tae. We've a braw hoose ower by yonder, jist
wearyin' to be filled. Ah'll tak the bit lass masel," she finished up
suddenly, and closed her firm mouth with a resolute air.

Elizabeth looked at her in amazement and admiration. Jake Martin's
house was the last place in Ontario she had supposed one would choose
as a refuge for an orphan. Certainly Auntie Jinit had worked a
revolution there.

"But there's Susie, Auntie Jinit, she's not as strong as Mary."

"Ah'll mind Susie, niver you fear, ma lass----"

"And--Mr. Martin?" hesitatingly.

Auntie Jinit laughed a gay, self-sufficient laugh. "Ah'll mind him
tae," she said firmly. "Ah've sed to Jake mony's the time--there'll be
some awfu' jedgment come upon this house, Jake Martin, because ye
turned a bit helpless bairn an' a decreepit auld buddy oot o' their
hame. An' Jake kens ah'm richt. He's been a bit worrit aboot it, an'
ah'll jist pit it till him plain that if he taks Eppie it'll jist avert
the wrath o' the Almichty."

Had Elizabeth's heart been a little less heavy, she must have enjoyed
immensely this slight revelation of the change in affairs at the Martin
home. Auntie Jinit had indeed worked a transformation there. The
house was well-furnished and comfortable. The younger children were
receiving an education; Charlie, one of the older sons, had returned to
help his father on the farm; Susie, under the care of the best doctors
in Cheemaun, was slowly creeping back to health and strength, and Mrs.
Martin herself was the finest dressed woman who drove along Champlain's
Road of a Saturday with her butter and eggs.

Something like a smile gleamed in Elizabeth's eyes, as she looked at
her, tripping along by the muddy roadside.

"So don't ye worry, ma lass," she said. "It's a braw fine thing ye
did, b