getting on real well without me. But I
kind of think, Rebecca, that I'm going to be given away to the Foggs for
good."

"Do you mean adopted?"

"Yes; I think father's going to sign papers. You see we can't tell how
many years it'll be before the poor baby outgrows its burns, and Mrs.
Fogg'll never be the same again, and she must have somebody to help
her."

"You'll be their real daughter, then, won't you, Clara Belle? And
Mr. Fogg is a deacon, and a selectman, and a road commissioner, and
everything splendid."

"Yes; I'll have board, and clothes, and school, and be named Fogg, and"
(here her voice sank to an awed whisper) "the upper farm if I should
ever get married; Miss Dearborn told me that herself, when she was
persuading me not to mind being given away."

"Clara Belle Simpson!" exclaimed Rebecca in a transport. "Who'd have
thought you'd be a female hero and an heiress besides? It's just like
a book story, and it happened in Riverboro. I'll make Uncle Jerry Cobb
allow there CAN be Riverboro stories, you see if I don't."

"Of course I know it's all right," Clara Belle replied soberly. "I'll
have a good home and father can't keep us all; but it's kind of dreadful
to be given away, like a piano or a horse and carriage!"

Rebecca's hand went out sympathetically to Clara Belle's freckled paw.
Suddenly her own face clouded and she whispered:

"I'm not sure, Clara Belle, but I'm given away too--do you s'pose I
am? Poor father left us in debt, you see. I thought I came away from
Sunnybrook to get an education and then help pay off the mortgage; but
mother doesn't say anything about my coming back, and our family's one
of those too-big ones, you know, just like yours."

"Did your mother sign papers to your aunts?'

"If she did I never heard anything about it; but there's something
pinned on to the mortgage that mother keeps in the drawer of the
bookcase."

"You'd know it if twas adoption papers; I guess you're just lent," Clara
Belle said cheeringly. "I don't believe anybody'd ever give YOU away!
And, oh! Rebecca, father's getting on so well! He works on Daly's farm
where they raise lots of horses and cattle, too, and he breaks all the
young colts and trains them, and swaps off the poor ones, and drives
all over the country. Daly told Mr. Fogg he was splendid with stock,
and father says it's just like play. He's sent home money three Saturday
nights."

"I'm so glad!" exclaimed Rebecca sympathetically. "Now yo