ht in, Miss Thorne," she said, "and I'll explain it to you."

Ruth descended, inwardly vowing that she would ride no more in Joe's
carriage, and after giving some directions about her trunk, followed her
guide indoors.

The storm-beaten house was certainly entitled to the respect accorded to
age. It was substantial, but unpretentious in outline, and had not been
painted for a long time. The faded green shutters blended harmoniously
with the greyish white background, and the piazza, which was evidently
an unhappy afterthought of the architect, had two or three new shingles
on its roof.

"You see it's this way, Miss Thorne," the maid began, volubly; "Miss
Hathaway, she went earlier than she laid out to, on account of the folks
decidin' to take a steamer that sailed beforehand--before the other one,
I mean. She went in sech a hurry that she didn't have time to send you
word and get an answer, but she's left a letter here for you, for she
trusted to your comin'."

Miss Thorne laid her hat and jacket aside and settled herself
comfortably in a rocker. The maid returned presently with a letter which
Miss Hathaway had sealed with half an ounce of red wax, presumably in a
laudable effort to remove temptation from the path of the red-cheeked,
wholesome, farmer's daughter who stood near by with her hands on her
hips.

"Miss Ruth Thorne," the letter began,

"Dear Niece:

"I am writing this in a hurry, as we are going a week before we expected
to. I think you will find everything all right. Hepsey will attend to
the house-keeping, for I don't suppose you know much about it, coming
from the city. She's a good-hearted girl, but she's set in her ways, and
you'll have to kinder give in to her, but any time when you can't, just
speak to her sharp and she'll do as you tell her.

"I have left money enough for the expenses until I come back, in a
little box on the top shelf of the closet in the front room, under a
pile of blankets and comfortables. The key that unlocks it is hung on
a nail driven into the back of the old bureau in the attic. I believe
Hepsey is honest and reliable, but I don't believe in tempting folks.

"When I get anywhere where I can, I will write and send you my address,
and then you can tell me how things are going at home. The catnip is
hanging from the rafters in the attic, in case you should want some tea,
and the sassafras is in the little drawer in the bureau that's got the
key hanging behind it.

"If