old the whole story to Miss
Avilda; told it simply and plainly, for she was not given to arabesques
in language, and then waited for a response.

"Well, what do you advise doin'?" asked Miss Cummins nervously.

"I don't feel comp'tent to advise, Vilda; the house ain't mine, nor yet
the beds that's in it, nor the victuals in the butt'ry; but as a
professin' Christian and member of the Orthodox Church in good and
reg'lar standin' you can't turn 'em ou'doors when it's comin' on dark
and they ain't got no place to sleep."

"Plenty of good Orthodox folks turned their backs on Martha when she was
in trouble."

"There may be Orthodox hogs, for all I know," replied the blunt
Samantha, who frequently called spades shovels in her search after
absolute truth of statement, "but that ain't no reason why we should
copy after 'em 's I know of."

"I don't propose to take in two strange children and saddle myself with
'em for days, or weeks, perhaps," said Miss Cummins coldly, "but I tell
you what I will do. Supposing we send the boy over to Squire Bean's.
It's near hayin' time, and he may take him in to help round and do
chores. Then we'll tell him before he goes that we'll keep the baby as
long as he gets a chance to work anywheres near. That will give us a
chance to look round for some place for 'em and find out whether they've
told us the truth."

"And if Squire Bean won't take him?" asked Samantha, with as much cold
indifference as she could assume.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing for it but he must come back here and
sleep. I'll go out and tell him so,--I declare I feel as weak as if I'd
had a spell of sickness!"

Timothy bore the news better than Samantha had feared. Squire Bean's
farm did not look so very far away; his heart was at rest about Gay and
he felt that he could find a shelter for himself somewhere.

"Now, how'll the baby act when she wakes up and finds you're gone?"
inquired Miss Vilda anxiously, as Timothy took his hat and bent down to
kiss the sleeping child.

"Well, I don't know exactly," answered Timothy, "because she's always
had me, you see. But I guess she'll be all right, now that she knows you
a little, and if I can see her every day. She never cries except once in
a long while when she gets mad; and if you're careful how you behave,
she'll hardly ever get mad at you."

"Well I vow!" exclaimed Miss Vilda with a grim glance at Samantha, "I
guess she'd better do the behavin'."

So Timothy was