He's a wonder. And I'm crazy to
see that housekeeper of his. If she lives up to her reputation there'll
be no disappointment in my Thanksgiving celebration."

Dan, the captain's hired man, met them with the carriage at the station,
and Miss Baker met them at the door of the Warren home. The exterior
of the big, old-fashioned, rambling house was inviting and homelike,
in spite of the gloomy weather, and Caroline cheered up a bit when they
turned in at the gate. Five minutes of Miss Abigail's society, and all
gloom disappeared. One could not be gloomy where Miss Abbie was. Her
smile of welcome was so broad that, as her employer said, "it took in
all outdoor and some of Punkhorn Neck," a place which, he hastened to
add, "was forgot durin' creation and has sort of happened of itself
since."

Abbie conducted Caroline to her room--old-fashioned, like the rest of
the house, but cozy, warm, and cheery--and, after helping in the removal
of her wraps, seized her by both hands and took a long look at her face.

"You'll excuse my bein' so familiar on short acquaintance, dearie," she
said, "but I've heard so much about you that I feel's if I knew you like
own folks. And you are own folks, ain't you? Course you are! Everyone of
'Lisha's letters have had four pages of you to one of anything else. I
begun to think New York was nothin' but you and a whole lot of ten-story
houses. He thinks so much of you that I'd be jealous, if I had that
kind of disposition and the time to spare. So I must have a good look at
you.... I declare! you're almost prettier than he said. May I kiss you?
I'd like to."

[Illustration: "'I declare! you're almost prettier than he said. May I
kiss you?'"]

She did, and they were friends at once.

The rest of that day and evening were busy times. Captain Elisha showed
his visitors about the place, the barn, the cows, the pigpen--the pig
himself had gone to fulfill the unhappy destiny of pigs, but they would
meet him by sections later on, so the captain assured them. The house
and buildings were spotless in paint and whitewash; the yard was raked
clean of every dead leaf and twig; the whole establishment was so neat
that Caroline remarked upon it.

"It looks as if it had been scoured," she said.

"Um-hm," observed her uncle, with a gratified nod; "that's Abbie. She
hates dirt worse than she does laziness, and that ain't sayin' a little.
I tell her she'd sand-soap the weather vane if she could climb up to