Mrs. Carter had never spoken more truly than when she said this, by way of consoling and bracing up Bella. When the first shock and excitement and grief had calmed down, the little family at 'Lane End' found themselves faced with a problem which gave them enough to do and to think about. This was, how were they all to be fed, and clothed, and warmed, and their rent paid during the weeks that lay ahead of them? Fortunately, their poor father had received his week's wages just an hour or so before he met with his accident, and fortunately the money was found still safe in his pocket, when his clothes had to be cut off him. This was something, but they all realised that it was the last that he would earn for many a day, and that there were five of them to support, and that money must be earned by some one to support them week by week. Miss Hender grew nearly crazy, and gave way to black despair. She was always one for looking on the black side of things, and adding trouble and depression where there was more than enough already. "It is a terrible thing to be left without a minute's warning, with four children to support, and enough to do already, without having to earn a living for them. I had better ask for parish relief; I don't see what else I can do," she groaned. "Oh, Aunt Emma, don't do that!" cried Bella, horrified. "It's all very well to say 'don't do that,'" her aunt answered impatiently. "I must do something. You wouldn't like to starve, I'm thinking, and if I let you, I'd be had up for neglect and sent to prison!" and she collapsed into tears and groans again. "Aunt Emma, don't go on like that! We'll get on somehow, and nobody shall blame you. We can make enough out of the garden to keep us yet for a bit," said Tom gravely. These last days had changed Tom from a child into a man. He had not said much, but he had thought a great deal, and done more. After the Sunday, that strange, quiet Sunday, when he had been into Norton with his aunt and Bella to see the poor sufferer in the hospital, he had quietly set to work in the garden with all the energy and determination he possessed, for he had realised that the garden was likely to prove their great 'stand-by,' and that to provide for the future, it must be cared for now. Aunt Emma, instead of thinking and acting, only sobbed and moaned and despaired, and instead of comforting the children, left them to comfort her. Perhaps in the end it was best for them, for it is only by helping and comforting others that one grows strong oneself. "We made nine shillings on Saturday," went on Tom hopefully, "and that wasn't one of our best days." "And you think that five of us can live on nine shillings a week!" "Couldn't we?" asked Tom disappointedly, "with the eggs and the apples and the stuff out of the garden?" Aunt Emma sniffed scornfully. "With good management we might get along," she said shortly. "There is no knowing what you can do till you're brought to it."