Then M'ri took David to a gabled room, at each end of which was a swinging window--"one for seeing the sun rise, and one for seeing it set," she said, as she turned back the covers from the spotless white bed. She yearned to console him, but before the mute look of grief in his big eyes she was silent. "I wish he would cry," she said wistfully to Barnabas, "he hasn't shed a tear since his mother died." No sooner had the sound of her footsteps ceased than David threw off his armor of self-restraint and burst into a passion of sobs, the wilder for their long repression. He didn't hear the patter of little feet on the floor, and not until two mothering arms were about his neck did he see the white-robed figure of Janey. "Don't cry, Davey," she implored, her quivering red mouth against his cheek. "I'm sorry; but I am your little sister now, so you must love me, Davey. Aunt M'ri told me so." CHAPTER III The lilac-scented breeze of early morning blowing softly through the vine-latticed window and stirring its white draperies brought David to wakefulness. With the first surprise at the strangeness of his surroundings came a fluttering of memory. The fragrance of lilacs was always hereafter to bring back the awfulness of this waking moment. He hurriedly dressed, and went down to the kitchen where M'ri was preparing breakfast. "Good morning, David. Janey has gone to find some fresh eggs. You may help her hunt them, if you will." Knowing the haunts of hens, he went toward the currant bushes. It was one of those soft days that link late spring and dawning summer. The coolness of the sweet-odored air, the twitter of numberless dawn birds, the entreating lowing of distant cattle--all breathing life and strength--were like a resurrection call to David. On the east porch, which was his retreat for a smoke or a rest between the intervals of choring and meals, Barnabas sat, securely wedged in by the washing machine, the refrigerator, the plant stand, the churn, the kerosene can, and the lawn mower. He gazed reflectively after David. "What are you going to hev Dave do to help, M'ri?" M'ri came to the door and considered a moment. "First of all, Barnabas, I am going to have him eat. He is so thin and hungry looking." Barnabas chuckled. His sister's happiest mission was the feeding of hungry children. After breakfast, when Janey's rebellious curls were again being brushed into shape, M'ri told David he could go to school if he liked. To her surprise the boy flushed and looked uncomfortable. M'ri's intuitions were quick and generally correct. "It's so near the end of the term, though," she added casually, as an afterthought, "that maybe you had better wait until next fall to start in." "Yes, please, Miss M'ri, I'd rather," he said quickly and gratefully. When Janey, dinner pail in hand and books under arm, was ready to start, David asked in surprise where Jud was. "Oh, he has gone long ago. He thinks he is too big to walk with Janey."