good was Janice's greatest comfort during this time
of trial. She did not discuss the girl's trouble, but she showed her
sympathy in other ways. Old Mrs. Scattergood always wanted to discuss
the horrors of the Mexican War, whenever she caught sight of Janice,
which was not pleasant. So Miss 'Rill and Janice arranged to meet more
often at Hopewell Drugg's, and little Lottie received better care those
days than ever before.

Miss 'Rill was not a bad seamstress, and the two friends began to make
Lottie little frocks; and, as Hopewell only had to supply the material
out of the store, Lottie was more prettily dressed--and for less
money--than previously.

As Janice and the ex-schoolmistress sat sewing in the big Drugg
kitchen, Hopewell would often linger in the shed room with his violin,
when there were no customers, and play the few pieces he had, in all
these years, managed to "pick out" upon his father's old instrument.
"Silver Threads Among the Gold" was the favorite--especially with
Lottie. She would dance and clap her hands when she felt the vibration
of certain minor chords, and come running to the visitors and attract
their attention to the sounds that she could "hear."

"He-a! he-a! he-a!" she shouted in that shrill toneless voice of hers.

Janice noticed that she talked less than formerly. Gradually the power
of speech was going from her because of disuse. It is almost always so
with the very young who are deprived of hearing.

Such a pitiful, pitiful case! Sometimes Janice could not think of
little Lottie without weeping. It seemed so awful that merely a matter
of money--a few hundred dollars--should keep this child from obtaining
the surgical help and the training that might aid her to become a
happy, normal girl.

It was from Mr. Middler--rather, through a certain conversation with
the minister--that Janice received the greatest help during these weeks
when her father's fate remained uncertain.

She could not spend all her time at Hopewell Drugg's, or with Walky
Dexter, or even about the old Day house. Autumn had come, and the
mornings were frosty. The woods were aflame with the sapless leaves.
Ice skimmed the quiet pools before the later-rising sun kissed them.

Janice had sometimes met the minister when she tramped over the
hillside--and especially up toward the Shower Bath in Jason Day's wood
lot. One glowing, warm October afternoon the girl and the gentle
little parson met on the cow path