shouldn't never be willing,
neither me nor Captain Melville, to rent the rooms to strangers, not while
we've got enough to live on without."

There was silence for some minutes between Reuben and Jane and Draxy after
this letter had been read. Jane looked steadily away from Reuben. There
was deep down in the patient woman's heart, a latent pride which was
grievously touched. Reuben turned to Draxy; her lips were parted; her
cheeks were flushed; her eyes glowed. "Oh, father, the sea!" she
exclaimed. This was her first thought; but in a second more she added,
"How kind, how good of Aunt Emma's husband!"

"Would you like to go, my daughter?" said Reuben, earnestly.

"Why, I thought of course we should go!" exclaimed Draxy, turning with a
bewildered look to her mother, who was still silent. "What else is the
letter sent for? It means that we must go."

Her beautiful simplicity was utterly removed from any false sense of
obligation. She accepted help as naturally from a human hand as from the
sunshine; she would give it herself, so far as she had power, just as
naturally and just as unconsciously.

There was very little discussion about the plan. Draxy's instinct overbore
all her father's misgiving, and all her mother's unwillingness.

"Oh, how can you feel so, Ma," she exclaimed more than once. "If I had a
sister I could not. I love Aunt Emma already next to you and father; and
you don't know how much we can do for her after we get there, either. I
can earn money there, I know I can; all we need."

Mrs. Melville had written that there were many strangers in the town in
the summer, and that she presumed Draxy could soon find all the work she
wished as seamstress; also that there were many chances of work for a man
who was accustomed to gardening, as, of course, Reuben must be.

Draxy's sanguine cheerfulness was infectious; even Jane began to look
forward with interest to the new home; and Reuben smiled when Draxy sang.
Lawton and Reuben were to be left behind; that was the only regret; but it
was merely anticipating by a very little the separation which was
inevitable, as the boys had both become engaged to daughters of the
farmers for whom they had been working, and would very soon take their
positions as sons-in-law on these farms.

The store was sold, the furniture packed, and Reuben Miller, with his wife
and child, set his face eastward to begin life anew. The change from the
rich wheat fields and glorious fore