The children had said their prayers, tired little heads were laid on soft white pillows, weary young limbs stretched out to rest, and leaving a kiss on each rosy mouth, the mother went down stairs to rejoin her husband and aunt in the sitting-room.

She found Mrs. Prior with them; the good woman had "just run in" to tell them of a girl in want of a place.

"I don't know anything about her," she went on, "except, that she's a right decent looking girl and wants to work out a spell; and that they tell me the family's English; respectable but poor.

"If you would wish to give her a trial; Mis' Keith, I've an opportunity to send her word this evening and as like as not she'd get a chance to come in with some of the country folks to-morrow."

Mrs. Keith gladly gave consent, feeling at the moment as if almost any sort of help would be better than none; then asked, "Is there any school in town that you could recommend for my little girls, Mrs. Prior?"

"Well, I don't know of but one and I've my doubts about that bein' such as you'd want to send to. Damaris Drybread's the teacher, and I shouldn't judge by her talk that she'd had a finished education;—not by no means! still she may do well enough for little ones. I haven't any, you know, so I haven't tried her."

"Suppose we have a light," suggested Mr. Keith, "it's growing too dark for us to see each other's faces."

Mildred rose, went to the kitchen, and presently returned with a lighted candle and a pair of snuffers, which she placed on the table.

Miss Stanhope was asking what sort of society was to be found in the place, to which Mrs. Prior made answer,

"Well, ma'am, we have pretty much all sorts; and yet don't divide up in circles like they do in a good many places. I s'pose there'll be more of that as the town grows larger.

"There's educated folks that's fond o' books and the like, and know what manners is, and how to talk well, and there's others that's rough and ignorant, yet mostly well meaning with it all—real honest and industrious.

"There are very few thieves, if any; folks leave their doors unlocked—sometimes wide open at night, and their clothes hanging out on the line; and I never hear of anything bein' took. There's very little drinking either; a drunken man's a rare sight with us."

"There are a good many New Englanders here, are there not?" inquired Mr. Keith.

"Yes, quite a good many; and from York state and Pennsylvany and Virginia; from Jersey too; I hail from there myself.

"But I must be going, it's gettin' late; evenins is so short this time o' year—and however it may be with Mr. Keith, I know you women folks are tired enough to be ready for bed.

"Now don't be formal with me, but run in whenever you can. I'll always be glad to see you.

"No, never mind your hat, Mr. Keith, I don't want a beau; for I'm not the least mite afraid. Good-night to you all," and she hurried away.

The candle was flaring and wasting in the wind. Miss Stanhope hastened to snuff it, remarking, "These are miserable tallows; get me some candle to-morrow, Stuart, and I'll try to make some that will be an improvement upon them. We have the moulds and the wick; all we want is the tallow."

Near noon of the next day a flauntily dressed young woman walked in at the open door and introduced herself to Mrs. Keith as the "Hinglish girl, Viny Apple, that Mrs. Prior had recommended."

Mrs. Keith received her kindly, "Can you cook and do general housework?" she asked.

"Yes, mum; of course, that's what I came for."

"I hope you understand how to work, but it is not to be expected that your way will always be what will suit me best; so I trust you are willing to be directed."

"If you're not too hard to please, mum, I'll suit, I'm sure."

"We will try it. Zillah, show Viny where she is to sleep."

"Is she to come to the table?" asked Mildred, when the two had disappeared up the stairway.

"We shall see; I have not spoken of it yet."

"You won't put up with that, mother surely?"

"I think I must if that is the only condition on which we can have help with our housework."

On coming down, Viny was directed to set the table for dinner, shown where to find the requisite articles, told how many were in the family, and left to the performance of her task.

Mildred noted the number of plates set on, and saw that Viny had counted herself in with the rest.

"You have one plate too many," she said with some sharpness of tone.

"No, Miss."

"You certainly have. Here are eleven; and we are only ten."

"And I make 'leven," returned Viny, a hot flush on her cheek and an angry gleam in her eyes.

"You?"

"Yes, Miss, I'm as good as the rest; and if I cook the victuals I 'ave a right to eat 'em."

A warning glance from her mother's eye checked the angry exclamation on the tip of Mildred's tongue.

"We will consent to your coming to the table with us, Viny, on condition that you are always neat and tidy in appearance," Mrs. Keith remarked in a quiet tone. "And now you may help me to dish up the dinner."

Aunt Wealthy was busied with her candle moulds in one corner of the kitchen; putting in the wicks.

"So that question's settled," she said in an aside to her niece; "and I think you have done wisely, Marcia."

The faces that surrounded the dinner-table that day were a study. Those of Miss Stanhope and Mrs. Keith wore their usual placid expression, but Mildred's was flushed and angry, Rupert's full of astonishment, reflected to some extent by the younger ones, while that of the new comer expressed self-assertion and defiance.

Mr. Keith glanced quizzically from one to another for a moment. Then gave his attention to filling the plates; talking at the same time in a cheerful strain.

"I have found a lot, wife, which I think will suit us for building on. If nobody feels too tired for a walk after tea we will all go and look at it. It is to be for the family, and the family must decide as to its merits."

This turned the current of thought and all the young people grew eager and animated. It was quite evident that no one intended to be too much fatigued to be of the party of inspection.

In the midst of the talk a low, half-terrified exclamation from Fan drew the attention of all, and following the direction of her glance they saw a tall Indian in the doorway, while beyond in the street, were many others, some on foot, some on horseback, some in the act of dismounting.

They were of both sexes and all ages; the papooses tied into little wooden troughs which the mothers stood up on end on the ground.

The babies were very quiet, not a whimper to be heard from any of them; though they were deprived of the use of their hands—their clothing being a straight strip of cloth folded around their bodies in such a way as to pin their poor little arms down to their sides—and had nothing to amuse them but a string of tiny bells stretched across the trough in front of their faces.

"Ugh!" said the Indian on the doorstep, "shawp!" and he pointed from a basket of berries his squaw had set down beside him to the loaf on the table.

"Oh do let's give it to 'im! no knowin' what 'e'll do if we don't!" cried Viny in a fright.

"It will be a good enough exchange," said Mr. Keith, taking the loaf and handing it to the Indian. "Bring a pan for the berries."

The Indian passed the loaf on to his squaw with a grunt of satisfaction, poured a quart or so of berries into the pan Viny had hastened to bring, then again pointed to the table.

"What now?" asked Mr. Keith, good-humoredly.

The Indian replied by a gesture as if lifting a cup to his lips; and Mildred saying, "He's thirsty," hastened to pour out a tumbler of milk and hand it to him.

He drank it, returned the glass with a nod of thanks and walked away.

"I'll just run hout and water 'em hall," said Viny, hurrying into the kitchen for a bucket and tin cup, "it's always best to keep on the good side of 'em, folks tell me, if you don't want to run no risk of losin' the 'air hoff yer 'ead."

Mr. Keith was standing in the doorway where the Indian had been a moment before.

"Come and look at them, wife, and all of you," he said, "it's quite a show and there's not the least danger."

Thus encouraged the children crowded to the door and window and found much amusement in watching the movements of the savages and Viny's efforts to win favor with them; efforts apparently well-directed, for the day was warm and they drank the cool water freshly drawn from the well in the yard, as if they found it very refreshing.

The troop—some thirty or forty in number—did not tarry long; in less than an hour they had all remounted and gone on their way.

"There! them savage wild Hinguns is all clear gone and hour scalps is safe for the present," remarked Viny, with a sigh of relief as the last one disappeared from view in a cloud of dust far down the street.

She had run out to the corner of the house, dishtowel in hand, to watch their movements as far as she could see them.

"Don't talk so; you'll frighten the children," said Mildred, reprovingly, speaking from the front door where she stood with the little ones grouped about her.

"I don't take my horders from you," muttered the girl, stalking back to her kitchen.

After an early tea the proposed family walk was taken.

The lot—a little farther to the north than any which had been built upon as yet, on the high river bank and overlooking the ferry—was pronounced all that could be desired.

It was on a corner, and on two sides afforded a fine view of the river, on the others of town and country.

"When we have our house built," remarked Mr. Keith, "we'll be able to see the Kankakee Marsh from the second story windows."

"Marsh?" repeated his wife in a tone of alarm, "how far off is it?"

"We're about two miles from this end; it is two hundred miles long, you remember, extending far over into Illinois. But why that sigh?"

"Ague!"

"Well, don't let us cross the bridge before we come to it. This is a beautiful spot. I think we can, in a few years, make it superior in point of beauty to any we have ever lived in."

"I think so too, if we can keep these fine old oaks."

There were several of them; grand old trees that had stood the storms of centuries, perhaps.

"We will; we'll manage our building in a way not to interfere with them."

At that Mildred's face brightened as it had not since her first sight of the yellow house.

She had been very homesick for the dear old home in Lansdale, though not a word of it had she breathed even into her mother's sympathetic ear.

"How soon can the house be done?" she asked.

"Better inquire first how soon it will be begun," laughed her father. "If we get into it by next spring we may consider ourselves fortunate."

"Oh dear!" sighed the children with one accord.

"The time will slip around before you know it, dears," remarked their aunt cheerily.

"And we'll soon get the ground fenced in and let you spend your leisure time, and exercise your taste and ingenuity in beautifying it," said their father.

"And may we all help plan the house?" asked Rupert.

Mr. Keith smiled, a kindly good-natured smile, with some amusement in it too.

"You may all make suggestions; it is to be our house:—not the parents' only, but the children's, too."