"Oh, do take poor mother," he called out--for there was no use trying to make any one else understand--"Green-wings and all of you, do take poor mother." "Not without you, Gratian," replied Gray-wings's sharp voice. "It's your place to look after your mother," and as she spoke she stooped towards him and he felt her cold breath, and with the start it gave him he awoke. The door of his room had blown open, and the window was rattling, and the clothes had slipped off on one side. No wonder he had dreamt he was cold. He covered himself up again and went to sleep. Mrs. Conyfer was up as usual the next morning. She said she was better, but she limped a little as she walked, and Gratian did not like to see it, though she assured him it did not hurt her. "I shall take a rest on Sunday," she said, "and then you may tend me a bit, Gratian. He's as handy as a girl," she added, turning to the farmer with a smile. And Mr. Conyfer patted his son's head. "That's right," he said; "always be good to your mother." "Winter is really coming," thought Gratian, as he ran to school, and he glanced up at the sky wondering if snow were at last on the way. It held off however for some little time yet. It was on the third day after this that Gratian on his way home was rather surprised to meet Mr. Cornelius returning as if from the Farm. The school-children knew that the master had been somewhere, for he had left the school in charge of one or two of the head boys and his sister, who lived with him and taught the girls sewing. He smiled and nodded at Gratian, but did not speak, and the boy could not help wondering if he had been at Four Winds, and why. And as soon as he got home he ran eagerly in to ask. "Has the master been here, mother? What did he come for?" he called out. His father and mother were both together in the kitchen, talking rather earnestly. His father looked at him as he answered-- "Yes, Gratian," he said, "Mr. Cornelius has been here. He had something important to talk to us about. After you have had your tea and done your lessons we will tell you." "I haven't any lessons, father," he replied. "We had time to do them this afternoon when the master was out." So as soon as tea was over he was told what it was. "Your friends at the Big House," began the farmer, "are leaving soon. They daren't stay once it gets really cold. You'll be sorry to lose them, my boy?" Gratian felt a lump rise in his throat, but he tried to answer cheerfully. "Yes, father. They've been so good to me. I knew they'd have to go some time, but I tried not to think of it. The lady has taught me so many things I never knew before. I'll try not to forget them."