om
in the cottage, and all together helped to make the two bare rooms
look home-like and comfortable.

The furniture was scanty and shabby, but to anyone accustomed to
rough it as Emma Smith had done, the place was beautiful, and full of
comfort and rest.

When it was ready, and she was first taken into it, she dropped into
the basket chair by the fire, and burst into grateful tears.
It was the first time she had shown any gratitude or pleasure in what
was being done for her.

"It's like 'ome," she sobbed, weakly, "and I've never had one since I
got married, till now,--and now--how I'm ever going to thank
everybody, I don't know. I never seem able to do any good to
anybody, I don't. 'Tis all take, with me, and no give, and I'm
ashamed of it."

Huldah felt some of the load slip off her spirits as she looked about
her. Here really was a home for Aunt Emma,--and now it rested with
herself to make it as neat and comfortable and happy as a home could
be. She would keep it as clean as a new pin, and as pretty as lay in
her power. She tried to conquer her sadness by hard work, to put
away her sorrow at leaving Aunt Martha and Dick and their happy life
together.

"Brownies always go where there's most to be done, Miss Rose says,
not where they'll be most comfortable," she said to herself, bravely,
but her poor little face was very wistful. A few days later, though,
when, after a long day's work, she sat down and looked about her, she
remarked cheerfully, "I don't think anybody can go on feeling very
miserable when they've lots to do and somebody to take care of."
A glow of pride warmed her heart, as she sat there drying her
water-soaked hands, and glanced from the gleaming stove and
fire-irons to the speckless window, and well-scrubbed table.

On the table stood a jar full of autumn flowers, and on the
window-sill a box full of brown earth and little roots, double
daisies, primulas, wallflowers. This last was Huldah's special joy
and pride.

"We'll have a proper little garden there, when the spring comes," she
remarked proudly to Aunt Emma.

Aunt Emma shook her head in melancholy fashion. "I shan't be here to
see it."

"Oh yes you will. You'll be helping me with the spring cleaning,"
said Huldah, trying to keep cheerful,--one of the hardest of her
daily tasks, for Aunt Emma's melancholy seldom left her. She never
saw the bright side of anything, poor soul, nor the best, nor did she
try to; and the depre