I don't say as I've got all the twists and turns of
it--but that you might, somehow or other, stand fer him. You couldn't
_be_ him, bein' a girl, of course, but stand fer him. Don't they have
proxers, or sponsors, or some such things in law, Mr. Dalton?"

That gentleman laughed heartily, and Joyce joined in with a merry peal.
Even Lucy and Nate helped the chorus, though somewhat perfunctorily, not
knowing just what they were laughing at.

"How is it, Miss Lavillotte, are you standing sponsor for any one?"
queried Dalton, as soon as he could get his voice.

"I hope not!" she laughed in return.

"Well," put in Nate, looking from one to the other, "it seems funny to
you, I see; but if I ain't much mistooken I've heered the boss, here,
talk about young Early more'n once. So they must be something to it, of
course."

"There!" said Joyce. "You are convicted, Mr. Dalton. Can you set
yourself right?"

"I can, if I may."

"Well, do by all means, then."

"Well, Nate, I began by first being deceived myself; then, being fairly
launched in deception, I went on cheating others. There never was a
young Early! No man is living by that name, that we know."

Nate looked dazed, and Lucy craned forward anxiously. "Who does own the
Works, then?" she cried. "Can't we go on living in our pretty houses,
and having the nice new ways? Who built the school, and the church, and
the Social-house?"

"Do you like the new, so much better than the old, way, Lucy? You have
had great sorrows since these changes, child."

Joyce leaned forward to the girl, kindly.

"I know, but if it had come before! How dreadful hungry and wretched
we'd have been! And how would it have gone with Nate? Do you s'pose
they'd ever 'a' cleared him, if they hadn't knowed he had rich friends?
Oh, I can't bear to think of it before! It's like the diff'runce between
being out in the cold and wet, with nobody to care, and being inside by
the fire, with ev'rybody good-natured. It's easier with the work, and
with the children, and with ev'rybody. There's lots of times, now, when
I couldn't help singin', only I'm ashamed to. And 'tisn't me only, but
Marry, and Rache, and the youngsters, and all. It's like summer, come to
stay."

"Dear Lucy!" said Joyce. "You put it very pleasantly, I'm sure. But here
we are at the station--explanations later!" and the bustle of making a
train just about to start drew their attention elsewhere.

Once within it, they could not find sea