he looked after all
things in a thrifty fashion that had already brought a crease between
her eyes, young as she was.

Faith was thin and fearful-looking, as if she expected some chiding in
nearly everything, and it rarely missed coming. For Rachel had been
sorely disappointed in her marriage plans, and liked to make others
suffer for her unhappiness.

Primrose was like a butterfly in the plain old house, and seemed to make
a swift dazzle. Aunt Lois warmed curiously toward her, feeling as if the
sun was shining after a spell of lowering weather.

She rose from her chair and laid aside her knitting.

"Thee used to love the chickens so much," she said gently. "We have some
pretty ones. While thy aunt talks business let us get out and see them.
I sit in doors so much thinking, and though I try not to question the
will of Providence, life does not seem quite as it used. It may be that
I am getting old. Poor mother used to sit under the tree yonder, but
when it comes my time, Faith will be too womanly and too busy to look
after me, and perhaps married."

They walked down the well-trodden path. There were chicken mothers in
little coops, and yellow, downy balls, others with tiny wings and
patches of feathers here and there.

"Thou didst see Andrew before he went away?"

The mother's eyes had a soft, wistful, far-off look.

"Yes. And a lovely letter that I have read again and again. Oh, why did
I not bring it--but indeed I did not know"--pausing in a tone that
indicated what might be meant.

"A mother is a mother always. A father may feel hard when his plans are
traversed. Tell me about my son; for I cannot shut my heart upon him."

"He makes a handsome soldier and a good one. He will have a large heart
and a wise head."

"But a soldier! And to kill his fellow-creatures. We are to live in
peace."

"But I was to say when I could, that he kept thee in his heart day and
night, and that he would never forget thee. Dear Aunt Lois, he is brave
and good and tender of soul, and I know God loves him for his work to
the poor and needy last winter."

"I have wondered many times how he escaped. We only knew that he was
safe."

"Someone betrayed him. He had taken great care. Wilt thou hear how he
left the town?"

"Dost thou know?" raising her soft eyes.

Primrose told gleefully how they had disguised him and seen him safe on
the road where he was not likely to meet the soldiery.

"And thou didst do this for him, dear