“We go from here down the river to the Red,” he began, “and when we have landed at the nearest point, we can take wagons about twenty miles further on where our grant lies. It isn’t as if it were an entirely strange place, for I’ve plenty of friends there, and we have a stout new house waiting for us. Steve has another a few rods away, and after a while I shall be able to put up a good frame house and be as fine as any one. We shall not be uncomfortable as it is, for we are taking all that is necessary, and I have even such luxuries as I thought could be easily transported, for I didn’t want the girls to feel as if they had no part of their old home. The soil is rich, and the climate can’t be beat. I don’t believe I am taking the girls to such a miserable place as you would have us believe. When you hear how well we are getting along you will be wanting to move down there yourself, sir.” “Don’t you think it,” returned Mr. Brown. “Kentucky will never see me desert her. Well, John, I wish you luck, though I must say I should have more faith in your getting on if you were going to stay in the old blue-grass country. It is good enough for me.” John shook his head and smiled. His was adventurous youth and Uncle Brown’s was the conservative spirit of middle age. CHAPTER II FIDGETTY LOU It was several days after this that the little company started on their journey, though they had not thought to be so detained. Fidgetty Lou made no such delay, however, for after particular inquiries as to where the Rosses were going she set about her own preparations. “I’ve a chance to get started,” she told the girls. “You’ll see me again.” Mrs. Brown refused approval of this sudden departure and was really so disturbed by it that her nieces had not the heart to leave her until another orphan could be found to take Louisa’s place. “I had counted on you, Alison,” she said, aggrieved, “and now it seems I am to be bereft of even Louisa.” “But you know, Aunt Miranda, we came only for the summer holidays, or till John should come for us,” Alison answered. “You were to come for good and all if you so chose,” returned her aunt who could not resist making this last appeal. “You know that was all settled,” replied Alison, looking distressed. And then came the compromise that there should be no talk of going till Louisa’s place was filled. In consequence of all this delay it seemed probable that Louisa was well on her way before the other travelers started. But they were off at last, one bright October morning. “Good luck to you,” was Uncle Brown’s parting word as he opened the gate that they might drive through. “Good-bye,” Aunt Brown called her final farewell, as they leaned from the carriage for a last look of the quiet white house, the orderly whitewashed outbuildings, and the trim garden. “Our last view of home,” said Alison, her eyes moist.