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never complained and with quiet courage she went her westering way thankfully. "Levi is wonderfully softened," she often thought; "it doesn't hurt him so much these days to praise instead of blame, and naturally folks respond. It's mostly on account of Sandy. Levi does so mortally hate to lose that when he wins out he thaws out!" The broad acres of Bretherton were rich and full of harvest as the old brother and sister waited that afternoon. At last Levi snapped his watch cover and said sharply: "That three-fifty train is always late! Do you suppose--she--Mrs. Treadwell, will expect to be put up for the night?" "I hope not," Matilda replied, knitting away gently with closed eyes. "I'm not one who takes pleasure in folks' disappointments and I'm glad to say the village inn is comfortable and not over crowded. I _can_, if it is necessary, tell Mary Jane to put an extra plate on for the evening meal." "Wait and see how things turn out," cautiously advised Levi. "What time is it now, brother?" "Two-forty-five! But I put no faith in that train." "Was that a letter from Sandy you got in the noon mail?" "It was, Matilda. I think it would be safe to have an extra plate put on for him." Matilda opened her eyes. "Levi," she said; "I'm not one to nose about much, but what is the meaning of all this?" Levi set his lips grimly. "I never knew that Treadwell woman to break in after a long silence but for two things," he replied; "either she wants something or she wants to get rid of something. Three years back she asked for help when she found that precious nephew of hers----" "And ours, Levi," Matilda put in; "we can't disown him. Blood is blood even if it clots." "Well, our nephew, then! When she found young Lansing Treadwell eating up her income, she begged for some scraps of what she pleased to term 'his mother's rights!'" "And you gave them to her, Levi!" "I couldn't let Caroline's boy die in a hole even if Hertford's son put him there!" "You speak real comically sometimes, Levi. There are times when I could think Sandy was talking through your voice!" "Well! well! every man has a streak of the dramatic in him!" Markham's lips relaxed, "and I must say that to see Sandy Morley and Lans Treadwell good friends without either sensing the true relations of birth and tradition, tickles me through and through. I guess that Treadwell woman would have done her prettiest if she had c
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