At noon Uncle Joe came home, dragging a sled—a big roomy one, glistening with red paint. Just the nicest sled Carolyn May had ever seen, and one of the best the hardware dealer carried in stock. “Oh, my, that’s lovely!” breathed the little girl in awed delight. “That’s ever so much better than any sled I ever had before. And Prince could draw me on it, if I only had a harness for him. He used to drag me in the park. Of course, if he saw a cat, I had to get off and hold him.” Mr. Stagg, once started upon the path of good deeds, seemed to like it. At night he brought home certain straps and rivets, and in the kitchen, much to Aunty Rose’s amazement, he fitted Prince to a harness which the next day Carolyn May used on the dog, and Prince drew her very nicely along the beaten paths. “But, if anybody would have told me, I’m free to confess I would not have believed it,” Aunty Rose declared, referring to Mr. Stagg’s actions in stronger language than Carolyn May had ever heard her use before. Carolyn May made a practice now of kissing Uncle Joe good-night when he started for the store after supper. “’Cause I’m always in bed when you get home,” she explained. Aunty Rose appeared not to notice this display of affection, and after a time Mr. Stagg got so used to it that he positively did not blush. But she climbed right into his lap and kissed him for the harness and sled, and the housekeeper felt in duty bound to comment upon it. “You’re on the road to spoil that child, Joseph Stagg,” she said. “Ahem!” coughed the hardware dealer, eyeing her with more boldness than he was usually able to display. “Ahem! I reckon somebody else around here began the spoiling—if any—Aunty Rose.” And the woman smiled grimly. “Well,” she said, “_you_ should not be in your second childhood—at your age.” By Saturday the roads were in splendid condition for sleighing. The heavy sleds, transporting timber or sawed planks from the camps and mills to town, packed the snow firmly. So Carolyn May went sledding. Soberly, Prince drew the new red sled and his little mistress along the road towards Miss Amanda’s. Of late the little girl wanted to see the carpenter’s daughter just as frequently as possible. There was a secret understanding between Miss Parlow and Carolyn May—something both thought of continually, but of which neither spoke directly. Carolyn May knew that the pretty lady was glad that Uncle Joe had come to love her. Every mark of affection that the hardware merchant showed his little niece the latter retailed to Miss Amanda, and each event lost nothing in the telling. Now she desired to show her friend the new sled and Prince’s harness. Mr. Stagg might still pass the Parlow house with his face averted; nevertheless, his praises were sung to Miss Amanda continually by Carolyn May.