disappeared into the other room.

There was no fiddle that evening. There was no heart for it with
Thomas, neither was there time, for there was the milking to do, and the
"sorting" of the pails and pans, and the preparing for churning in the
morning, so that when all was done, the long evening had faded into the
twilight and it was time for bed.

Before going upstairs, Thomas took Hughie into "the room" where his
mother's bed had been placed. Thomas gave her her medicine and made her
comfortable for the night.

"Is there nothing else now, mother?" he said, still lingering about her.

"No, Thomas, my man. How are the cows doing?"

"Grand; Blossom filled a pail to-night, and Spotty almost twice. She's a
great milker, yon."

"Yes, and so was her mother. I remember she used to fill two pails when
the grass was good."

"I remember her, too. Her horns curled right back, didn't they? And she
always looked so fierce."

"Yes, but she was a kindly cow. And will the churn be ready for the
morning?"

"Yes, mother, we'll have buttermilk for our porridge, sure enough."

"Well, you'll need to be up early for that, too early, Thomas, lad, for
a boy like you."

"A boy like me!" said Thomas, feigning indignation, and stretching
himself to his full height. "Where would you be getting your men,
mother?"

"You are man enough, laddie," said his mother, "and a good one you will
come to be, I doubt. And you, too, Hughie, lad," she added, turning to
him. "You will be like your father."

"I dunno," said Hughie, his face flushing scarlet. He was weary and sick
of his secret, and the sight of the loving comradeship between Thomas
and his mother made his burden all the heavier.

"What's wrong with yon laddie?" asked Mrs. Finch, when Hughie had gone
away to bed.

"Now, mother, you're too sharp altogether. And how do you know anything
is wrong with him?"

"I warrant you his mother sees it. Something is on his mind. Hughie is
not the lad he used to be. He will not look at you straight, and that is
not like Hughie."

"Oh, mother, you're a sharp one," said Thomas. "I thought no one had
seen that but myself. Yes, there is something wrong with him. It's
something in the school. It's a poor place nowadays, anyway, and I wish
Hughie were done with it."

"He must keep at the school, Thomas, and I only wish you could do the
same." His mother sighed. She had her own secret ambition for Thomas,
and though she never opened her heart to