t took with th' things you said about
children that she was ready t' listen t' you on anything, an' you won't
let 'er have a chance t' get at you at all--an' ain't she come out? You'd
have t' live with 'er, Lizzie, t' know what that little woman's done fur
herself this last year--an' it was you that helped t' do it. Honest, now,
don't you see yourself that if you've had things give t' you that th' rest
ain't had that you owe somethin' t' th' rest of us?"

In all the weary discordant time when she had struggled for better
conditions Elizabeth Hunter had never thought of anything in the situation
but the bettering of her own surroundings. It had been the suffering of
blind stupidity, of youth, of the human being too deeply submerged to
think of aught but personal affairs. Luther drew her attention to the main
facts of her life, drawing her away from self. It was a simple occurrence,
a simple subject, a simple question: it was in itself the reason for the
perpetuation of their friendship. The winds blew, the snow found its way
under door and sash and heaped itself in ridges across the floor, and in
spite of the roaring fire they were not always warm, but throughout the
night Elizabeth sat beside her lifelong friend and drew in a revivifying
fire which was to remould and make over a life which had almost flickered
to a smouldering resentment and inactivity.

CHAPTER XVII

ADJUSTING DOMESTIC TO SOCIAL IDEALS

The next morning the wind blew the fine snow in one vast driving cloud; it
was impossible to see a hundred feet. Elizabeth knew that the stock was
suffering, but was almost certain that she could not reach them. It would
not be hard to reach the barn, since the wind would be with her, but to
return would be a different matter. To feel that she had done all that she
could, she went as far as the gate, and when she could not see the house
from that point was sufficiently warned and struggled back to safety. No
sound but that of the storm came to her even at the gate, but she was
certain that the famishing cattle were calling for food. Her day was
consumed in the care of Luther's inflamed hands and feet. The only remedy
she knew was wet cloths and she worked anxiously to reduce the swelling
and congestion.

About four o'clock the wind dropped. Though the air was still full of fine
snow, Elizabeth wrapped herself in John's old overcoat and muffler, and
putting a pair of Jake's heavy mittens on her hands, and tak