p might
have flared up and cooked all those eggs. Or it might have expired and
left them to freeze out there in the washhouse.

She did not arouse Lyddy, but slipped into her wrapper and slippers and
crept downstairs with her candle. There _had_ been a sound that aroused
her. She heard somebody moving about the kitchen.

"Surely father hasn't got up--he promised he wouldn't," thought 'Phemie.

She was not afraid of outside marauders now. Both Mr. Somers and young
Mr. Colesworth were in the house. 'Phemie went boldly into the kitchen
from the hall.

The porch door opened and a wavering light appeared--another candle.
There was Harris Colesworth, in _his_ robe and slippers, coming from
the direction of the washhouse.

'Phemie shrank back and hid by the foot of the stairs. But she was not
quick enough in putting her light out--or else he heard her giggle.

"Halt! who goes there?" demanded Colesworth, in a sepulchral voice.

"A--a fr-r-riend," chattered 'Phemie.

"Advance, friend, and give the countersign," commanded the young man.

"Chickens!" gasped 'Phemie, convulsed with laughter.

"You'd have had fried eggs, maybe, for all your interest in the
incubator," said Harris, with a chuckle. "So 'Chickens' is no longer the
password."

"Oh, they didn't get too hot?" pleaded the girl, in despair.

"Nope. This is the second time I've been out. To tell you the truth," said
Harris, laughing, "I think the incubator is all right and will work like a
charm; but I understand they're a good deal like ships--likely to develop
some crotchet at almost any time."

"But it's good of you to take the trouble to look at it for us."

"Sure it is!" he laughed. "But that's what I'm on earth for--to do
good--didn't you know that, Miss 'Phemie?"

She told her sister about Harris Colesworth's kindness in the morning.
But Lyddy took it the other way about.

"I declare! he can't keep his fingers out of our pie at any stage of the
game; can he?" she snapped.

"Why, Lyd!"

"Oh--don't talk to me!" returned her older sister, who seemed to be rather
snappish this morning. "That young man is getting on my nerves."

It was Sunday and the Colesworths had engaged a two-seated carriage
in town to take Mrs. Castle and Mr. Bray with them to church. There
was a seat beside Mr. Somers, behind Old Molly, for one of the girls.
The teacher plainly wanted to take Lyddy, but that young lady had not
recovered from her ill-temper of the early morning