te
leading into The Dale lane, she glanced back at the old farm-house
against the dark background of pines. Above the long hill the wind had
opened a long golden rent in the gray skies. Elizabeth smiled. It was
a beautiful omen, and hopeful.

She soon discovered that she needed all the light that her vision of
love and duty could shed upon her pathway; for the ensuing days proved
dark ones. The possibilities of coming disaster hung over her head,
and her aunt's attitude of aggrieved reproachfulness was torture to the
girl's loving heart. To add to her suffering, Miss Gordon insisted,
martyr-like, in taking charge of Eppie. Elizabeth strove to assist,
but she was always doing things wrong, and her aunt sighed and declared
she only added to her burdens. Offers of a home for Eppie had come
from all sides, but at first Miss Gordon refused each one. For, after
all, the lady of The Dale was made of fine material. Never could she
be brought to turn an orphan from her door, and her stern sense of duty
drove her to nurse the girl with all the care and skill she could
command. But hers was a nature that, while it was capable of rising to
the height of a difficult task, failed in the greater task of carrying
the burden bravely.

So Tom Teeter, the Johnstones, the Cleggs, and the MacAllisters were
forced to content themselves with sending gifts of cream and fresh eggs
and chicken-soup and currant jelly to the poor little guest at The
Dale, until her hosts were embarrassed by their riches. But Auntie
Jinit's offer was not to be so put aside. For what was the use of
vanquishing a husband if one could not display the evidence of one's
triumph? The new gay paper on the parlor wall witnessed to brother
Wully's complete recovery from rheumatism, but the crick in his back,
brought on by his brother-in-law's stormy refusal to take old Sandy
McLachlan's child into his home was long and persistent. It had
vanished at last on a certain evening when Jake sheepishly presented
himself at the Johnstone home to inquire when his truant wife was
coming back. This was always the enemy's sign of capitulation. Auntie
Jinit sailed home with flying colors, and the next morning presented
herself at The Dale and demanded that Eppie go home with her.

Not even Miss Gordon dared deny her, and so Eppie went to her new
home--one where every care a motherly heart could contrive was given
her. But Elizabeth's position was no less uncomfortabl