"What do you suppose is the matter with Lottie?" murmured Marty. "Is she sick or something?"

Suddenly Janice Day suspected the truth. She hugged little Lottie all the tighter, saying in reply to her cousin:

"Don't bother her now, Marty. She isn't sick, I'm sure. She'll be all right in a little while. She's come over here to spend the night with me, haven't you, Lottie?"

"Ye—yes! If you'll k-k-keep me."

"Sure we'll keep you," said Marty gruffly. He was much moved by the little girl's tears. "You stop her from gulpin' that way, Janice. She'll—she'll swallow her palate!"

"She's in no danger, Marty," the older girl said. "She's just sobbing."

Lottie's tempestuous sobs began to subside. Janice led her toward the kitchen door, whispering: "Is there anything the matter with papa or Mamma 'Rill? Tell me, Lottie."

"Just that they ain't going to want me any more," repeated Lottie.

"Has Mrs. Scattergood been talking to you?" whispered Janice.

The visitor nodded emphatically but said nothing more. Janice turned to Marty, and the boy wondered why she looked so angry. He had not done anything out of the way, he was sure.

"Run right across town to the store, Marty, and tell Mr. Drugg and his wife where she is. Tell them she is going to stay all night with me. But don't tell them anything else."

"Huh?" queried Marty.

"Not a thing. Just that she came here to stay all night with me and I didn't want them to be worried. That's enough."

"Oh!" grunted Marty. "I see," and he started out of the yard immediately, while Janice led the more-quietly-sobbing Lottie into the house.

"Dear sakes alive!" exploded Aunt 'Mira, "what ever is Lottie Drugg doin' 'way over here at this time o' night? Anythin' wrong with 'Rill?"

"Not a thing," Janice said cheerfully. "Lottie wanted to stay all night with me and she is a little late getting here. Now hush, honey! don't cry any more. You are here now and you'll be all right, you know."

"Why, do tell!" said wondering Aunt 'Mira. "What's she cryin' for? Didn't she know that little gals was as welcome here as the flowers in spring? Come, give Miz' Day a kiss, sweetheart. I'm sartain sure glad to see ye."

Lottie began to feel better and swallowed her sobs—if not her palate—very quickly. She was of some importance in this house, at least. She sat down and took off her tam-o'-shanter and unbuttoned the new blue coat of which she had been so proud only a few days before. But she was no longer wearing "Mamma 'Rill's" present—the string of blue beads.

"It's airly yet," said Mrs. Day. "When's your usual bedtime, Lottie? We can all have a game of parchesi or somethin'. Can't we, Janice?"

"I don't go to bed much before half-past nine. Sometimes I'm let to stay up later," Lottie said.

"And your eyes are as bright as buttons now," said Aunt 'Mira comfortably. "Jest wipe the tears out of 'em."

"That is right, Lottie. Marty will soon be back and we'll play games," Janice agreed.

Lottie removed her coat and began to feel decidedly better. Marty came in after a while, red in the face and short of breath, but cheerfully a-grin again. He gave a bundle to Janice and winked at her as he said:

"All right. I ran all the way. They say she can stay. Whew!"

"It's my nightie," whispered Lottie, pointing to the bundle. "And my toothbrush and clean stockings, and things."

"Some day you'll bust something, runnin' so," said Mrs. Day to Marty. "Where are all those picture puzzles and toy-games? You want to amuse Lottie now she's here."

Nothing loath, the boy rummaged out a wealth of amusement-producing inventions and Lottie forgot her sorrow for the time being. Mr. Day came in, and, being instructed by Janice in the kitchen, made no comment upon Lottie Drugg's presence.

The visitor sat close beside Marty and if, at any time, she did not play to the best advantage, he corrected her privately. As for Mr. and Mrs. Day they looked on and smiled. Who could help smiling at little Lottie Drugg?

Janice was glad that her visitor's mind was coaxed away from her troubles before bedtime. By that time Lottie was chattering like a squirrel and she bade the family good-night happily.

After the two girls had said their prayers and got into bed, the visitor suddenly seized Janice tightly around the neck and sobbed a little with her face pressed close against the bigger girl's shoulder.

"Oh, Janice Day! I never can go home to papa and Mamma 'Rill. What shall I do?"

"Don't worry about that, honey," Janice told her soothingly. "You can stay here, you know, if you wish to."

"Oh, yes! I love you. Mr. and Mrs. Day are awfully nice to me. And Marty is just the best boy. But—but it isn't going to be like home," she wailed.

"Well then, dear, why don't you wish to go home any more?" asked her friend soberly.

"They—they don't want me. They—they ain't going to want me at all."

"Who says so?"

"I—I know they don't. Why, Janice Day! they've asked God for another little girl—a baby girl—to come and stay with them. Mrs. Scattergood says so. That's what she meant by saying my nose was going to be put out of joint. She told me so. I asked her," confessed Lottie.

"Oh, my dear!" sighed Janice.

It was difficult to seek to relieve Lottie's mind regarding the wonderful thing that was coming to pass in the Drugg household, without saying what might be unkind, but true, about Mrs. Scattergood. Just at this moment Janice felt that she could have shaken the acid-tempered old woman with the greatest satisfaction!

"Did you ask Papa Drugg or Mamma 'Rill about it?" Janice queried of the little girl.

"Oh, no."

"Then how do you know they don't want you any more?"

"Why—of course they don't. Or they wu—wu—wouldn't ask for another little girl," sobbed Lottie.

"Perhaps the baby will be a little boy, honey. When folks ask God for a baby He sends what He thinks is best for them to have. And wouldn't you just love to have a little baby brother to love and play with and help take care of? Now, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, Janice Day!"

"Just think! You'd always have somebody to play with at home and you wouldn't be lonely any more. You wouldn't even mind if your echo went away," suggested Janice. "Think of it! When he grows bigger——"

"He'll be like Marty!" gasped Lottie, clutching at her friend more vigorously.

"That is, if it is a boy. But if it is a dear little girl, she'll be lots of company for you," Janice pursued. "Think how nice it would be to have a sister. I've always wished I had one. She can play keep house with you, and play dolls, and you both can dress up and be real grown-up ladies, and——"

A long, contented sigh from little Lottie. She began to breathe regularly, with only now and then a sob in her voice. She was asleep.

Janice, however, did not sleep at once. With the soft, warm body of the innocent child in her arms she lay a long time pondering these things.

How unkind of Mrs. Scattergood to let the barb of her bitter tongue sting Lottie's gentle heart! How wrong and unwise 'Rill's mother was about most things!

Because she selfishly desired her daughter to be at her beck and call, Mrs. Scattergood had opposed her marriage to Hopewell Drugg. So, at every turn, where the sour old creature could do so, she sowed thorns in the path of her daughter and Hopewell.

"She makes herself unhappy, and all about her, as well. She succeeded in embittering poor 'Rill's life for several weeks with her untrue gossip about Mr. Drugg's drinking. Now, when she should be her daughter's greatest stay and comfort, she deliberately tries to set poor little Lottie against her own mamma and father. It is dreadful," Janice decided. "It must be stopped. I've got to do something about it!"

So, when she finally dropped to sleep it was with this decision firm in her mind. She awoke with it, too, and after leaving Lottie at the schoolhouse, Janice drove her car around by Mrs. Scattergood's little dwelling at the crown of the High Street hill.

The birdlike little old woman was out in her front yard swathing her rosebushes in straw and mulching their roots against the harder frosts of winter which were already due. She waved a gloved hand to the young girl who stepped out from behind the steering wheel of her car and entered the creaking gate.

"Here ye be, Janice Day, jest as bright as a new penny," said Mrs. Scattergood. "I wanter know if that young'un of Hopewell Drugg's was over to your house last night."

"Yes, she was, Mrs. Scattergood," Janice gravely replied. "She remained all night with me."

"Huh, I don't approve of sech didoes. My young'uns was allus in the house by dark—and stayed in till mornin'. 'Rill came traipsin' over here after eight o'clock to see if I'd seen her."

"Lottie was all right," said Janice. "I sent Marty over to tell 'Rill not to worry."

"The young'un ain't more'n ha'f witted. I allus have said so."

"She is just as bright as any other child of her age—brighter than some," affirmed Janice warmly. "She is more sensitive than most. Therefore we should be careful what we say to her."

"Ha! what d'ye mean, Janice Day?" asked the old woman, eyeing her caller suspiciously and belligerently.

Janice told her. She spoke warmly and with flashing eyes that held Mrs. Scattergood silent for the nonce. She had never seen Janice display any appearance of wrath before, and if her pet cat had suddenly turned in her lap and spit at her and scratched her, Mrs. Scattergood would have been no more surprised.

"Hoity-toity, young lady!" she finally said. "Do you think this is pretty talk to me that's old enough to be your grandmother?"

"That is just why I am saying it to you, Mrs. Scattergood," Janice responded firmly. "You are little Lottie's grandmother——"

"No, I ain't!" snapped the woman, her face very grim. "Nor I ain't likely to adopt any young one of Hope Drugg's and Cindy Stone's. I—should—say—not!"

"And is that the attitude you propose to assume when the little stranger comes? You cannot deny your relationship then."

"Oh! Well! Ahem! That's quite another matter," said Mrs. Scattergood crossly.

"Just now, when dear 'Rill needs all the kindness that can be shown her—by everybody—why can't you forget your"—"spite" she desired to say, but did not—"dislike of Hopewell and little Lottie? Be friends with them. Why! this arrival should make you all one happy family together."

Mrs. Scattergood snorted—literally. "Ha! Sech a great to-do about nothin'," she ejaculated.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Scattergood. It's not about nothing. It's the greatest thing that can happen. It is the most beautiful thing in the world to 'Rill. I know she feels that way."

"Poor critter! She's almost as big a fule as that young'un, Lottie," muttered the woman.

"Doesn't she need your love and comfort all the more, then?" suggested Janice softly. "Think of it, Mrs. Scattergood."

"I'll tell ye what I do think, Janice Day," snapped the other, not at all pacified. "I think you'd be in better business if you found something else to do, 'stead o' comin' here to tell me what's my duty."

"Oh, now, Mrs. Scattergood, don't be angry with me. I know you'll be sorry later if you do not show the love that 'Rill has the right to expect from you at this time. Don't make trouble for her."

"Humph!" ejaculated the old woman, scowling at her. "A body might think you had trouble enough of your own so't you could afford to mind your own business."

Janice flushed, for the criticism stung. She had, however, determined not to take offense at anything Mrs. Scattergood might say. Nothing but the girl's deep sense of the necessity for her act had urged her to address 'Rill's mother in this way.

"I haven't any personal trouble just now, Mrs. Scattergood. Of course, Uncle Jason's difficulty worries me a bit. But when daddy hears about it he will help."

"Your father! Broxton Day! Humph!" exploded the old woman, her wrinkled face flushed and her eyes snapping. "I calc'late Broxton Day has got his hands full right now without doin' anythin' for your Uncle Jase."

"Why, what do you mean, Mrs. Scattergood?"

The color washed out of Janice's cheeks instantly, and her lips remained parted in her excitement. Somehow the tart old woman's speech struck deep into the girl's heart.

For several days she had been fighting down the feeling of suspicion and fear that was rising like a tide within her. Daddy's letter was delayed. She had not chanced to see any newspaper but the Courier of late. Why! even Uncle Jason's Ledger had not appeared on the sitting room table. She watched the hard old face of the crotchety Mrs. Scattergood in a fascination of growing horror, repeating:

"What do you mean? Has anything happened to daddy? And you know it—and I don't?"

"Well, ye oughter if ye don't," snapped Mrs. Scattergood. "I never did believe in hidin' the trewth from folks. No good comes of it."

"What is it? What has happened to my father?" and Janice clutched at her arm.

"Wal, I've gone so fur, I might's well tell ye," the woman said, all of a flutter now. "Somebody oughter tell ye. Ye was bound to find it out, anyway."

"But what is it?"

"Broxton Day's been shot by them Mexicaners. He's shot, is a prisoner, an' I hear tell he ain't never likely to git out o' that plaguey country alive!"