Shad drove them down to the station in a snowstorm. Jean stood in the doorway with Cousin Roxy and Mrs. Gorham, waving until they passed the turn of the road at the mill. The other girls were at school, and the house seemed fearfully lonely to her as she turned back and fastened the storm doors. “Now,” Cousin Roxy said briskly, drawing on her thick knit woolen driving gloves, “I’m going along myself, and do you stand up straight, Jean Robbins, and take your mother’s place.” She mitigated the seeming severity of the charge by a sound kiss and a pat on the shoulder. “I brought a ham down for you chicks, one of the Judge’s prize hickory home smoked ones, and there’s plenty in the cellar and the preserve closet. You’d better let Laviny go along her own gait. She always seems to make out better that way. Just you have an oversight on the girls and keep up the good cheer in the house. Pile on the logs and shut out the cold. While they’re away, if I were you I’d close up the big front parlor, and move the piano out into the living-room where you’ll get some good of it. Goodbye for now. Tell Laviny not to forget to set some sponge right away. I noticed you were out of bread.” Ella Lou took the wintry road with zest, the steam clouding her nostrils, as she shook her head with a snort, and breasted the hill road. Jean breathed a sigh as the familiar carriage disappeared over the brow of the hill. Out in the dining-room, Mrs. Gorham was moving placidly about as if she had always belonged there, humming to herself an old time song. “When the mists have rolled in splendor, from the beauty of the hills, And the sunshine warm and tender, falls in kisses on the rills, We may read love’s shining letter, in the rainbow of the spray, We shall know each other better, when the mists have cleared away.” When Shad returned from the station, he came into the kitchen with a load of wood on his arm, stamping his feet, and whistling. “Seen anything of Joe?” he asked. “I ain’t laid eyes on the little creature since breakfast, and he was going to chop up my kindling for me. I’ll bet a cookie he’s took to his heels. He’s been acting funny for several days ever since that peddler went along here.” “Oh, not really, Shad,” said Jean, anxiously. She had overlooked Joe completely in the hurry of preparations for departure. “What could happen to him?” “Nothing special,” answered Shad dryly, “’cepting an ingrowing dislike for work.” “You can’t expect a little fellow only nine to work very hard, can you?” “Well, he should earn his board and keep, I’ve been telling him. And he don’t want to go to school, he says. He’s got to do something. He keeps asking me when I’m going down to Nantic. Looks suspicious to me!”