but once he had said to her during a flight of fancy:

"Some day I'm going to gather them-all away from old Smith Crothers and
save them!"

"Come and see for yourself, little Miss Cyn."

The tone was friendly and kind, and the actual necessity of the future
gripped Cynthia.

"Come and see. I know what is due to you and your folks, Miss Cynthia;
I don't ask you to work 'long of the others. I have work for you right
in my office where I can have an eye to your comfort and pleasure.
Just copying letters and addressing envelopes and I will give
you"--Crothers paused; his sudden desire was carrying him perilously
near the danger point of being ridiculous--"I'll give you three dollars
every week. Three whole dollars!"

With vivid memory Cynthia recalled the long years that it had taken to
earn the three dollars for Sandy's venture and she gave a little gasp.

"Three whole dollars! And you can get down to the factory after you
make the old lady comfortable, and I can let you have a little
mule--all for yourself--to tote you to and fro."

"It's--it's very kind of you, Mr. Crothers," Cynthia panted; "I'll
ask----" Then of a sudden she recollected that there was no one to
ask. For the first time in her life she was confronted by an
overpowering condition that she must meet alone! Just then a sharp
touch of cold struck her as the changing wind found the thin place in
her coarse gown.

"I'll--I'll come, and thank you, Mr. Crothers," she said in shaking
voice. "I'll come, next week!"

"Good!" cried Crothers, "and I'll send up the mule--we'll put its feed
in saddle bags--I'll throw that in and----" the smile on the man's face
almost frightened Cynthia, though the words that followed seemed to
give it the lie.

"I'm going to have one of the men stack wood for you, too, and lay in
some winter vegetables. I don't want you to think badly of me, little
Miss Cyn. I want to help you-all."

When he had gone Cynthia drew a long breath, and shivered as though
some evil thing had threatened or touched her in passing, but an hour
later she was thankful her sudden impulse had led her to accept
Crothers' offer, for the wind changed and brought from its new quarter
a biting warning of winter. Fires had to be kindled to warm the damp,
dreary rooms, and Ann Walden, crouching by the blaze, looked gratefully
up into Cynthia's face and laughed that vacant, childish laugh that
aroused in the girl the fear that youth knows, and