ge. She's goin' to begin school, soon's town meetin's
over an' Moses'll have time to drive her there. Oh, I forget he's broke.
Well, she'll go sometime, if the proper clothes come an' things turn out
accordin'. But come she must now, an' to oncet, if she's anywhere's
hereabout, 'cause I dassent stay a minute more. I shall be blowed off my
feet, I 'low, an' I wish, I do wish, I hadn't wore my best bunnit."

"Take it off and leave it here, Susanna. I will lend you a scarf to tie
over your hair, and Montgomery shall carry it home to you in the
morning. I will go myself and see if the children are on the place.
Though I doubt it, if Alfaretta hasn't seen them, or if they haven't
come in here to be with us during the storm. Maybe it will soon pass.
Wouldn't you better wait and see?"

"Not a minute longer 'an to look," answered the widow, really more
alarmed for the comfort of her home folks than for herself. Laying her
bonnet carefully upon the side table, she followed Madam into the
kitchen, yet would not permit that lady to explore the barn as she set
out to do.

"Come along with me, Alfy, but get a lantern. I hear the barn door
swingin' an' old Whitey mooin' as if even she was scared. You or Monty
must ha' been careless about shuttin' up to-night, which uther one of
you done it, or didn't do it."

A lantern was procured and lighted, but there Alfaretta's assistance
ended. Nothing would have induced her to visit that barn again that
night, no matter how well protected by such a valiant woman as the Widow
Sprigg. As the latter disappeared toward the outbuildings, carefully
shielding the lantern with her shawl, Alfaretta's conscience drove her
to say:

"It ain't no use. She won't find him. He--he ain't there."

"Isn't there? Then why, child, did you do such a rude thing as to let
her go on a useless errand? I really don't understand what has come
over you to-night. You are trying my patience severely."

"Yes'm," admitted the bond-maid, meekly.

Madam laid her hand upon the girl's shoulder and turned her face toward
the light of the candle which she was herself holding behind the
uncurtained kitchen window, the better to guide Susanna on her way.

"Tell me, child, what has frightened you so? Do you know where my dear
grandson is? It terrifies me to think he may be somewhere out-of-doors,
unprotected in this tempest. Did he go fishing? Nutting? To play ball?
Do you know where he is?"

"Yes'm," again answered the li