w's now?" she asked.

"Yes, if we can carry all at once."

"I'll see to that. I've taken many a heavier load a good deal farther."

"But I will share the burden with you."

"No, it looks better for me to have my arms full than you; and, anyway,
I want to do something to help them, and you too."

I humored her fancy, only insisting on relieving her of my present for
Mr. Bowen. It was the most precious package in the lot; and I feared she
might drop it. When we reached the door of the Larkum cottage she halted.

"You won't like the look of things here to-day. There's only the
neighbors to look after them; and the most of us has more'n enough to do
home."

"If I am such a poor soldier as to be so easily frightened as that, you
would be ashamed of me. When they endure it all the time, surely I may
for a few minutes."

"But you're not used to it."

She entered without knocking, when a scene met my gaze that fully equaled
Mrs. Blake's warning. The fire was quite out, and I could see no fuel at
hand to kindle it, Mr. Bowen sat in the window trying to extract some
warmth from the dull, November sunshine; the baby crying wearily in his
arms, probably from cold and hunger combined; the other two children had
curled themselves up in an old rug, their bright eyes watching us with
eager longing, the house itself was the picture of desolation.

I shivered under my warm fur cloak, and with difficulty restrained myself
from rushing from the place; but Mrs. Blake, laying down her bundle with
a sigh of relief, bade Mr. Bowen good morning in her usual cheerful way;
he responded with equal cheerfulness, still ignorant of my presence
there. "You find us a little cold to-day," he said, as if it were the
merest accident; "but wood has given out, and the morning seems rather
cool."

I looked at him in amazement. How could he speak so calmly under the
circumstances?

"How is Mrs. Larkum, to-day?"

"Pretty low, I am sorry to say. The doctor says she needs beef-tea and
wine."

"It's easy for doctors to prescribe."

"He thinks she might come around if she had proper nourishment. But we
are in the Lord's hands," he added patiently.

"Yes, and I guess the Lord has sent one of His ravens to look after you.
Not that Miss Selwyn looks like a raven--she's more like a lily."

"Is Miss Selwyn here?" he asked, turning around eagerly.

"Yes, I reached home last evening. I am sorry to find you in such
trouble."

"The Lord knows what