s assurance to the contrary. He came
back leading a woman by the hand, as protectingly as if she had been a
child, and introduced her as:

"The bit mother hersel'! Look at her well. Isn't she the very sight
and image of Robin, the lad? And mind how she's pickin' up already.
Just one day of good victuals and Dame's cossetting and the pink's
streamin' back to her cheeks. Please the good Lord they'll never get
that thin again whilst I have my ox-team to haul with and the Dame's
good land to till. I'll just step-an'-fetch the rocker out--"

At that point in his remarks the Dame laid a hand on his shoulder,
saying:

"That'll do, John Gilpin. Just brew a cup of tea. I'll tell the lad."

Winifred was amused at this wifely reprimand, but no offense seemed
meant nor taken. The farmer stopped talking and deftly made the tea
from the boiling kettle, added a couple of plates to the waiting
supper table, and drew from the oven a mighty dish of baked beans that
might have been cooked in Yankee-land, and flanked this by a Yorkshire
pudding.

"Oh! how nice that smells!" cried Dorothy, springing up to add the
knives and forks from the dresser; while Winifred clapped her hands in
a pretended ecstasy and sniffed the savory odors, admitting: "I'm as
hungry as hungry! And this beats any supper I asked for at Oak Knowe.
I hope they'll want us to stay!"

Her frankness made timid little Mrs. Locke smile as she had not been
able to do since she had known of Robin's accident, and smiling was
good for her. Indeed, the whole atmosphere of this simple, comfortable
home was good for her, and the high spirits of these three young
people delightful to her care-burdened heart.

For, presently, it was the three--not least of these her idol, her
Robin! Dorothy had followed the Dame into the boy's room and Winifred
had promptly followed her; and because he was the sunny-hearted lad
which the farmer had claimed him to be, he put all thought of his own
pain or trouble out of mind, and laughed with the two girls at their
awkward attempts at feeding him from the tray on the stand beside the
bed. Having to lie flat upon his back he could still use one arm and
could have fed himself fairly well. But this his visitors would not
allow; and he was obliged to submit when Winifred, playfully
struggling with Dolly for "My time now!" thrust a spoon into his ear
instead of his mouth.

The truth was that under the girl's assumed indifference to the fact
that