he perplexity of the moment
could entirely shut out the reminiscent side of the occasion. The
bread-board, dusty and unused, leaned against the flour barrel, the little
line above it where the dishtowels should hang sagged under the weight of
a bridle hung there to warm the frosty bit, the rocking chair, mended with
broom wire after the cyclone, and on its back Aunt Susan's chambray
sunbonnet where it had fallen from its nail: all familiar. With a little
cry Elizabeth fell on her knees by Nathan Hornby's side.

"Oh, Uncle Nate! you can't tell what others have to contend with, and--and
you must not even ask, but----" She could not proceed for sobs.

Nathan Hornby's own face twitched and trembled with emotion. The girl had
unconsciously used Susan's own last words. His heart was touched. Susan's
great love for Elizabeth pleaded for her.

"Can't I come, Uncle Nate? Won't you be friends with me?"

And Nathan Hornby, who wanted her friendship, answered reluctantly:

"Yes-s-s--come along if you want t'. You won't find it a very cheerful
place t' come to, but she'd be glad t' know you're here, I guess."

Jack, sitting in his shawls and wraps on the floor, began to cry. He had
been neglected long enough. His mother got suddenly to her feet. Both
stooped to take the baby. Elizabeth resigned him to Nathan, instinctively
realizing that Jack was a good advocate in her favour if Nathan still
retained fragments of his grievances. She let the old man retain him on
his lap while she busied herself about him unpinning his shawls.

It was home-like and companionable to have a woman and baby in the house,
and Nathan Hornby had been lonesome a long time. He clucked to the baby
and began to trot him up and down on his knee. With a relieved sigh
Elizabeth dropped into a chair and watched them.

Jack, unaccustomed to whiskers, put his hand out to investigate. Nathan
waggled his chin to shake its pendant brush, and Jack started nervously.
Nathan looked across at Elizabeth and laughed. That little laugh did a
world of good in aiding Elizabeth's plans. It was not possible for Nathan
to catch her eye in good-natured raillery and remain cool of manner; that
laugh and the glance that went with it did much to wash away his hurt. In
his secret soul Nathan had craved Elizabeth's love and Elizabeth's baby.
She had been like a daughter in the house. He had missed her almost as
much as his wife had done, but he had resented her long absence. He had