reached the little room her old feelings returned. She
frowned on the parcel lying on the floor, as if it were an alien thing
that she would like to hide away. There were several shelves in the
closet and some hooks at one end. Oh, here were some frocks she had worn
last summer, homespun goods! A pair of clumsy shoes, larger than those
she had on, and she gave them a little kick.

Grandmother was in the living room, sitting by the window. Very pale and
frail she looked.

"Faith," she said. "Faith," in a tremulous voice.

"I am not Faith. My name is Primrose Henry," and the child came nearer
with a vague curiosity.

"No, thou art not a true Henry with that trifling name. The Henrys were
sober, discreet people, fearing the Lord and serving Him. What didst
thou say?" lapsing in memory and looking up with frightened eyes. "Thou
art a strange girl and I want Faith."

She began to cry with a soft, sad whine.

"Grandmother, yes; Faith will be here in a minute. This is Andrew's
cousin, his dead uncle's child, Philemon Henry."

"And she said her name was--a posy of some sort; I forget. They used to
take posies to meetings, sweet marjoram and rosemary. And there was
fennel. It was a long while ago. Why did Philemon Henry die?"

Primrose looked at her curiously.

"That was my own father," she said with a feeling that these people had
no right of real ownership in him, except Andrew.

Aunt Lois came out, and taking her mother's hand, said, "Come and have
some supper." Then, turning to Primrose, "I hope thou art in a better
humor, child. It does not speak well for town training that thou
shouldst fly in such a passion with thy elders."

"Who was in a passion?" repeated grandmother with a parrot-like
intonation. "Not one of the Lord's people I hope?"

"Silence, mother!"

Lois Henry spoke in a low tone but with a certain decision. She was like
a child and had to be governed in that manner. They were all taking
their places at the table, Lois at the head and Rachel next to
grandmother on the other side, then Faith and Primrose. Opposite the
workmen were ranged, Andrew with one on either hand. The colored help
had a table in the kitchen. This was the only distinction the Henrys
made.

Lois Henry accepted the burthen of a half demented mother with a quiet
resignation. In her serene faith she never inquired why a capable and
devoted Christian woman should have her mind darkened and be made
comparatively helpless while ph