Lowering her eyes to the hearth-rug, she became aware of a shaggy form stretched out there—Tatters, _couchant_, with his solemn eyes fastened upon hers, watching their every movement questioningly. In answer to his appeal, Brooke knelt on the rug before him, raising him so that his paws rested on her shoulders, and whispered, “We are of your people, Tatters, and we are so tired and lonely. Won’t you love us, and let us live here with you?” Then Tatters, who had not yet moved his eyes from Brooke’s, touched the tip of her nose with his tongue as lightly as the brush of a moth’s wing, and dropping his head to her lap, closed his eyes, as if in sign of complete confidence. CHAPTER X TATTERS TRANSFERS HIMSELF Not even the insistent sense of responsibility and of the literal work of hands that lay before her could keep Brooke awake that first night in the homestead. With the fact that the move was accomplished came a feeling of relief, as if a heavy weight had suddenly slipped from her shoulders, while the knowledge that Dr. Russell had elected to return there for the night after supping with Robert Stead gave her a wonderful sense of security. In future Adam would sleep in the small room that opened between his father’s and the back entry, but for this one night Miss Keith insisted upon occupying it herself, “So that you can all sleep with both eyes shut, and naught but dreams to trouble you,” she insisted when Brooke, after helping wash and put away the tea things, had proposed to discuss certain domestic questions. The combination of a jingle of sleigh bells and the whirr-r with which the hall clock cleared its throat, preparatory to striking nine, were the first sounds that Brooke heard when she opened her eyes upon the new surroundings, and then suddenly came to herself, conscience-stricken at her utter oblivion of the past ten hours. Going to the east window, whence the sound of bells and voices came, she raised the shade and peered between the curtains. This window faced the front road, and consequently the Moosatuk, to which it was parallel, though on a much higher level; but all that could now be seen of the river was a broad roadway, smooth, white, and level, bounded on each side by rugged banks, set thick with snow-draped hemlocks. A light snow had fallen in the early hours of the night, not a sufficient storm to drift and block the roads, but merely to “polish up the sleighing,” as the country parlance has it, while its magic touch lingered on every brier and roadside weed in fantastic crystals, which, meeting the sunbeams, radiated dazzling prismatic colours.