home and herself lessened rapidly a feeling of
inadequacy came upon her, and the glitter of the wonderful coach in which
she was riding was forgotten. Could she help? The only thing that was very
clear to her was that much patience would be necessary. At Uncle Nathan's
they had been gentle and loving and tolerant.

"Can I make them see it--and see how?" she asked herself so many times
that the wheels beneath her took up the refrain.

"Gentle and loving and tolerant--gentle and loving and tolerant--gentle
and loving and tolerant," they sang for miles as she sat with her young
brow puckered into a deep frown.

The realities of life were thrust into the foreground the moment Elizabeth
arrived, and for new reasons she missed Luther. Mr. Farnshaw resented the
new circular.

"Is that th' damned fool kind of coat she was talkin' about?" he inquired
as his daughter alighted from the farm wagon at the kitchen door that
afternoon. "It ain't got no warmth," he added scornfully. "Th' ain'
nothin' to it but looks, an' not much of that. What 'd y' you do with th'
coat you had?"

The old heartsickening contention had begun.

"I've got it."

"Well, you see that you wear it and don't go makin' a fool out of yourself
around here. I'd 'a' kept my money if I'd 'a' knowed it was goin' t' be
put into a thing that'd swell up in th' wind like a balloon."

Mrs. Farnshaw saw the look that swept over Elizabeth's face and
instinctively ranged herself on the side of the young girl. She saw with a
woman's eyes the style in the garment and its importance in her daughter's
appearance. When Elizabeth took it off her mother took it to the bedroom
to put it away, remarking in a whisper that it made her look quite like a
school-teacher ought to look. She was secretly glad that her daughter had
it, since it was already paid for and she did not have to make it. It
would be the most observed wrap in the schoolhouse the next Sunday if she
could only persuade Elizabeth to go to meeting. The metal clasp had
virtues all its own.

"I think it's ever so much more stuck-up than if it had buttons," she
whispered.

The undertone rasped on Elizabeth's nerves. Aunt Susan never differed with
Uncle Nate in undertones.

"Let's get supper, ma," she said, to shake herself from threatened
despondency.

But though Elizabeth bustled energetically about the getting of that meal,
the eating of it was not a very great success. Mr. Farnshaw discoursed
upon the sens